Gomer Goes to Vietnam
by smartyjonescrzy
Summary: Shazaam! Everyone's favorite Marine comes face to face with his biggest challenge yet...getting deployed to Vietnam. He'll have to draw on his own resources and the friendships he's made to see it through. T for mild themes, war content, and language.
1. Whirlwind Wedding

**Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership to any of the characters and fictional settings used here. All rights belong to CBS.**

**Dedicated to the memory of all the veterans who have served protecting our freedom. And for their millions of comrades who never came home.**

**I would also like to express my special thanks to my sister, Courtney, for her help in the writing of this fanfiction.**

**Chapter 1**

_Whirlwind Wedding_

"…I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Private First Class Gomer Pyle smiled down at his bride, Lou Ann Poovie, and suddenly became embarrassed with all the people there watching him. Behind him, his best man, Corporal Gilbert "Duke" Slater, prodded him forward. "Come on, Gomer."

Actually, considering the whirlwind of a day it had been, it was surprising Gomer had waited until now to freeze up. He had been perfectly fine earlier, what with all the other things he'd had to do…

Duke had gone back to the barracks late that morning while the men were on Sunday liberty to check up on his friend. He had found Gomer sitting on his bunk, shining his shoes like crazy.

"Hey, Gomer. What are you doing?"

"Just spiffin' up my dress blue uniform so it looks real nice. I gotter wear it today, you know. An' you know why?"

Duke held up a hand. "I know, Gomer, I know. And I'll be there. Say, does that mean you've already picked up the uniforms from the dry cleaners?"

Gomer's eyes widened. "Shazaam! I knew there was somethin' I'd forgot! You think Sergeant Carter'll give me a pass so's I can go into town an' get them?" He glanced at his watch, starting to look panicked. "We only got five hours til the weddin', Duke! We only got five hours!"

"Calm down, buddy. Calm down." Duke reassured him hastily. "I'm sure the sergeant will let you once you explain it to him. Here, I'll go with you."

The two men left the barracks for the duty hut, hoping Sergeant Carter was in a good mood to give them a pass.

-

"What for, Pyle? I've been giving you so many passes, I don't know what to think! It makes me wonder what you're doing in town that's so important, anyway?" Gunnery Sergeant Vincent Carter stood at his desk and eyed the private warily.

"Well, I guess I better tell you now." Gomer brought his hand from behind his back and handed the sergeant an envelope. "Surprise, surprise, surprise!"

"What's this?" Carter hastily opened it and scanned the contents of the note. He slowly put it down and stared at Gomer, wide-eyed. "A wedding invitation…for today?"

"Lou Ann an' I are gettin' married! Ain't it wonderful? Surprise, surprise, surprise!" Gomer grinned goofily.

Carter slowly turned to Gomer's companion. "Slater, you were in on this, too?"

Duke nodded hastily. "Everyone's known about it for a while. Except for you and Corporal Boyle, of course. Gomer wanted to invite you at the last minute to surprise you." When Carter's old corporal had returned from specialized training, Duke had been transferred to a different combat unit on the base. Needless to say, Duke was over at Sergeant Carter's portion of the camp a lot more often than he should have been since.

Carter slowly looked over at Corporal Chuck Boyle, who was calmly listening to the whole exchange from his desk. Then he turned back to the two men, a dumbfounded look across his face. "You want us..." He motioned with his finger to include Boyle. "To come to _Pyle's _wedding?"

Gomer nodded. "An' I sure hope you can make it, Sergeant, Corporal Boyle. But you see, the reason I need this pass is because I dropped me an' Duke's dress blues off at the dry cleaner's last week. An' it took me a while, too. There was this sweet old lady in there that was a talkin' to me that had to get twelve of her sweaters cleaned. See, she was tellin' me 'bout how she's got these cats that live in her house? Well, they's always coughin' up fur on her furniture an' it's jus' plain ruint her nice sweaters. An' she told me 'bout how she cleans up all them messes. You know what makes a real good lint roller when you don't got one? Piece of maskin' tape round your fingers. I tried it an' it works real fine, too!" Gomer smiled.

"That's enough, Pyle!" Sergeant Carter barked roughly. "You were saying about the uniforms?"

"Oh, I jus' almost forgot to pick 'em up, is all." Gomer motioned to his friend. "Duke reminded me 'bout them, an' I would've done forgot if he didn't. We need those uniforms right away an' you know why? Cause me an' Lou Ann is gettin' married today." He grinned at Sergeant Carter.

"I know, Pyle, I know. You told me." Carter rummaged in his desk for a pass.

"I'll be there, Pyle. Where's it at?" Corporal Boyle spoke up from his desk.

"You don't have to go far, Corporal. It's jus' that itty bitty church at the corner of Main, you know the one with the Bingo Night on Thursdays sign out front that always gets torn down?"

"Yeah, I know it. What time?"

"Well, the weddin' starts at..." Gomer looked down and his eyes widened. "Four an' a half hours! Goll-ly, Duke, I got to hurry!" He hastily grabbed his pass from Sergeant Carter and turned to his friend. "Duke, can I borrow sixty cents?"

"Sure, Gomer. What for?" Duke fumbled in his pocket for the change.

"Fifty cents is for the bus ride into town, an' another ten cents is for the pay phone so I cain call Lou Ann an' ask her if I need to do somethin' else I forgot, like the uniforms." He glanced at the change Duke put into his hand and frowned. "You gave me fifty cents extra, Duke."

"I know. You're forgetting the bus fare back to the base." Duke clapped his friend on the back. "Don't worry about it. You can pay me back next payday."

"Thanks, Duke! I will!" Gomer ran back to the barracks to change out of his fatigues and into his khakis before going into town.

-

"I sent the land lady over to the church with the napkins and the chaplain just called and said he'd be over here in an hour." Bunny Carter consulted her list of things to do before the wedding while the bride-to-be, Lou Ann Poovie, watched her from the couch.

"Flowers. I called the florist this morning, and they should be decorating the church right now." Bunny checked the item off her list. "I've got to give Tipper his pillow. Come here, Tipper!" She patted a chair, calling to her three-year-old mutt, who came bounding up to her with his tongue hanging out. Bunny pulled out a small pillow with a lace collar and attached it around Tipper's neck. "We'll have to remember to put the rings on there before the ceremony. Wasn't this a great idea to make Tipper the ring bearer?"

Lou Ann smiled. "Actually, it is." She reached out and absently petted the dog.

Bunny frowned at the girl. "Lou Ann, you wouldn't happen to be nervous, would you?"

Lou Ann looked up at her girl friend, her face drawn with worry. "Actually, I am. I must be a terrible person."

"No, dear! Not at all! It's perfectly natural for the bride to have the jitters right before the ceremony." Bunny sat down next to her and patted her knee reassuringly. "Believe me, when I married Vince, I felt exactly the same way. Then I got into that quiet congregation room, and the music started playing, and all my jitters went away then and there. I marched (literally) right up that aisle and made my vows right opposite at Vince up at the altar. You know how long I waited for that guy to finally get up the guts to marry me? I wasn't about to let him get away!"

Lou Ann's eyes clouded with tears as she pictured it. "That must have been wonderful."

"Yeah, until we arrived at our hotel in San Paulo." Bunny grimaced. "It was our honeymoon, and I was getting our keys from the front desk while he had the _gall _to check out a few girls in bikinis and go over and talk to them! On our _honeymoon!_" Then she smiled. "But he paid for it, all right. I got the king bed all to myself that night while dear hubby Vince got comfortable on the cold floor. I'll never forget the royal battle we had that night. It was the most amazing honeymoon I could ever ask for." She sighed happily, as if recalling a fond memory.

"But I cain't even think that far ahead! All I can think of is the chaplain askin' me, 'do you take this man for ever an' ever, til death do you part?' I've been thinkin' an' you know...that's an awful long time!" Lou Ann looked worriedly at Bunny.

Bunny shook her head. "Come now, girl! You've got to cheer up! Don't you love Gomer?"

"Actually...I do."

"And doesn't he love you?"

"Actually...he does."

"And don't you want to spend the rest of your lives together? Brave all of life's storms and trifles together? Strike up a family together? Share your laughter and every precious moment together?"

Lou Ann brightened. "Actually...I do!" She cried happily.

"That's all you're agreeing to when you make that morbid-sounding promise. It's nothing but the best things in a marriage that make it up. So when you're up there making those vows, look up at Gomer and think about the things I said. They'll carry you through."

"Thanks, Bunny!" Lou Ann hugged her friend tightly, then looked at Bunny's list. "What all is left for us to do?

Just then, the phone rang. Tipper started barking while Bunny jumped up to answer it.

"It's the catering! I knew it wouldn't come in time, I just _knew _it wouldn't!" She hastily picked up the phone from its hook. "Listen, you! We're shoveling out five hundred bucks for your crummy food and the least you can do is arrive in time to feed the reception! I...oh, it's you, Gomer. Sorry, I thought you were the caterer...Yes, she is...Yes, hold on a second."

Bunny put a hand over the phone and turned to Lou Ann. "Gomer wants to speak to you."

Lou Ann hurriedly took the phone from Bunny. "Hey, Gomer!...That's awfully sweet of you. It's nice to hear your voice too, darlin'...Well, let me check." She turned to Bunny. "Gomer's in town. He just picked up his uniform. Is there anythin' else he should do for the weddin' while he's here?"

Bunny consulted her list. "Hmm...well, he could pick up the cake from the bakery and deliver it to the church."

Lou Ann uncovered the phone. "Actually, there is. Would you be a gentleman an' go pick up the cake at the bakery an' then take it over to the church...I knew you would...see you soon, Gomer....love you, too...bye, now."

She slowly replaced the phone on its receiver. She stared at it for a moment uncertainly.

"Everything okay, Lou Ann?" Bunny looked up from her list and frowned in concern.

"Actually...yes." Lou Ann's face slowly lit back up. "After what you jus' said an' gettin' to hear Gomer, well...I just ain't nervous anymore!"

"Great! And Gomer said he'd pick up the cake..." Bunny checked the item off of her list. "Then there's only one thing left to do."

"What's that?"

"Get you ready for the wedding! Come on, we don't got a minute to waste!" Bunny ushered Lou Ann away toward the bedroom.

-

Gomer stepped cautiously into the bakery, two garment bags in his hand. "Hey there!" He called to the baker at the counter. "I'm here to pick up a cake. It's a purdy special occasion too. You see…"

"What name was it ordered under?" The baker asked, stifling a yawn. It just wasn't right the way some people could be so bright and happy like this young man…

Gomer frowned. "Gosh, I forgot to ask her. I guess it would be under the name Carter." He kept talking as the baker disappeared into the back. "Miss Bunny's been real nice to help us so much by takin' care of most all the preparations."

The baker reappeared with a box and set it down on the counter. "That'll be $32.50."

Gomer shook his head at the price. "Shame, shame. Thirty-two fifty for one silly old cake. That's too much, is what."

"Look, I don't make the prices. I just bake the goods. Have you got the money or don't ya?" The baker kept his head propped up on the table to keep from falling asleep.

"Could you jus' bill it to Miss Bunny's address? Here, I'll write it down for you." Gomer grabbed a piece of paper laying nearby and hastily scribbled down the address. "I'm real sorry I don't got the money, but I'm plain broke an' payday's not til next week." He looked closely at the baker. "You ought to try Gran'ma Pyle's sleep medication. It'll really help keep you awake durin' the day." He picked up the cake and gave a small wave. "Well, bye." He turned and almost tripped over himself as he left the little shop.

The baker picked up the paper to read it. He slowly frowned and turned it sideways, at all angles, even upside down. "Some help this is. I can't even read the address!"

-

As Gomer entered the small church situated on the corner of Main, he had to push his way through a throng of florists and caterers who were anxiously preparing the church for the ceremony and reception. "Scuse me, I really am sorry," he looked up and smiled as he spotted a familiar face. He waved. "Hey, Chaplain!"

The Chaplain cleared a path for Gomer and led him over to a table to set the cake on. "Sorry about all the commotion. The curators had a fit when all these people showed up, worrying about whether all this can get cleared away by seven. It's bingo night, you know." He smiled warmly. "Well, Pyle, the hour draws near. Are you going to be married in those khakis? You only have three hours left, you know."

"Three hours?" Gomer began to sweat nervously. "Mercy, mercy me. I'm gonna be late to my own weddin' an' Lou Ann will be so sore at me, she'll kill me dead, I know it!"

The Chaplain put an arm out to steady Gomer. "Relax, Pyle. I was only kidding you. You'll have plenty of time to prepare before the wedding." He glanced up. "Looks like you have some visitors."

Gomer turned around and smiled. "Hey, Miss Bunny!"

As she came up to him, Gomer enveloped her in a big bear hug. "I just wanna say ahead of time on behalf of Lou Ann an' me, thank you, thank you, thank you!" He released her and grinned goofily. "I don't think we ever could've done it without you."

Bunny waved the praise aside. "Nonsense, Gomer. I was glad to do it." She smiled and gestured behind her. "By the way, you have some more guests. They just flew out this morning."

"Who?" Gomer looked, trying to see whom Bunny had indicated. He was greeted by the sight of his old buddy Andy Taylor. The sheriff of Mayberry lifted his hand in greeting. "Hey, Gomer."

"Hey, Andy!" Gomer's eyes lit up as he went over to greet his friend. "You came all the way out here from Mayberry, North Caroliner, jus' to be here for Lou Ann an' me?"

"That's right, Gomer. And I didn't come alone."

"Wonderful! That's jus' wonderful! I think I could cry…" Gomer's voice trailed off as he saw the rest of the Mayberry gang.

"Hey, Gomer!" They cried, rushing up to him.

At that moment, Gomer actually did cry. All his old friends had come out to be there for him and Lou Ann on their wedding day. There was Opie Taylor, and how he was growing! And Aunt Bee, Barney Fife, Cousin Goober, Aunt Martha, Uncle Ralph…

Gomer let out a gasp and waved, trying to smile through his tears. "Gran'ma! Gran'pa!"

"Gomer, my boy!" Grandma Pyle finally made her way through the throng and up to her grandson, hugging him tightly.

"I ain't seen you two in what seems like forever!" Gomer sobbed, smiling as he saw the look of mild disapproval on his grandfather's face.

"Dry those eyes an' square up those shoulders, boy! You're a man now! A real Pyle!" Otis Pyle looked the boy up and down. "You're six foot, aren't you?"

Gomer nodded silently.

"You look six foot!" He chided, his eyes twinkling merrily.

Gomer smiled and straightened as he was told. His grandfather reminded him so much of Sergeant Carter. It was no wonder he had taken a liking to both from the very beginning. "Golly, Gran'pa." He murmured finally. "I stuck it out an' done like you told me to. It was real rewardin', like you said it was."

"An' I couldn't be prouder, son." Otis nodded approvingly and held up a bag. "Picked up a present for you an' Lou Ann when I took a tour group trip to Yellowstone. I'll jus' go set it with the others."

"My grandbaby! Look at him, all growed up!" Grandma Pyle stepped back and held him at arm's length. "Let me look at you."

Gomer squirmed in embarrassment. "Aw…"

Aunt Bee came up alongside Grandma Pyle. "That's what I tried to tell him when I saw him last. Look how strong he's gotten. An' he's filled out! He used to be such a skinny, scrawny thing, an' look at him now! An' it's no surprise to me he's finally gettin' married. Jus' look how handsome he's gotten!"

"That's Gomer. The big, strong Marine." Grandma Pyle looked down and rummaged in her bag. "Though he could use a little ocra root to get rid of those bags under his eyes…" She turned back to him and smiled warmly. "But I couldn't have asked for him to turn out better."

"Oh, Gran'ma!" Gomer hugged her again, then turned and gave Aunt Bee one as well.

He finally turned around and looked at Bunny. "Miss Bunny, where's Lou Ann right now?"

"She's back at my apartment, Gomer. Why do you ask?"

Gomer shrugged. "I'd kinda like ever'one to meet the girl I'm marryin'."

Bunny raised her eyebrows. "But Gomer, you're not allowed to see the bride right before the wedding."

"Why not?"

"Because it's bad luck." Bunny said seriously, then smiled. "Don't worry. She'll get to meet all your friends at the reception. Did you pick up the cake like I asked?"

"Yes, ma'am! It's right here!" Gomer gestured proudly to the cake box.

"Well, let's open it up and take a look at it."

The Chaplain, who was standing closest to the cake, lifted up the cake and looked inside. "Um…Pyle?" He beckoned and Bunny and Gomer peered in at the cake.

There, at the top, inscribed in blue icing was HAPPY 80TH BIRTHDAY VICTORIA.

"Shazaam!" Gomer murmured numbly. "I got the wrong cake!"

-

"I jus' know I asked for an order placed under the name Carter!" Gomer explained as he and Bunny hurried back toward the bakery, cake box in hand. "He must have given me the wrong one!"

"Gomer, you should have looked inside and checked to make sure it was right!" Bunny cried in dismay. "How could you do something so stupid?"

"It was an honest mistake, cross my heart, Miss Bunny! I cain't even begin to tell you how sorry I am!"

"Let's just hope Victoria Carter didn't pick up our cake yet!" Bunny quickened her pace as they entered the bakery.

The baker was standing at the counter, his head folded over his arms. He broke off a snore and slowly opened his eyes as Bunny marched into the shop, followed by Gomer.

"Good afternoon, sir. I'm Bunny Carter. I'm afraid there was a mix-up earlier when Gomer came in here to pick up his wedding cake. As you can see," she plopped the cake down on the counter and opened the lid, "This. Is not. A wedding cake!"

The baker opened his eyes widely to get them to focus as he read the inscription on the cake. He shook his head. "You're right," he yawned. "That's no wedding cake."

Bunny was so mad she reached over the counter and grabbed a hold of the man's shirt, gritting her teeth. "Listen, buddy. What does it take to wake you up?" She suddenly raised her voice, shouting right into his face. "THIS MAN IS GETTING MARRIED IN TWO AND A HALF HOURS AND I'M NOT GOING TO LET ALL MY CAREFUL PLANNING GO DOWN THE DRAIN JUST BECAUSE YOU WERE SO ASLEEP AS TO GIVE HIM AN EIGHTY YEAR OLD LADY'S BIRTHDAY CAKE! NOW SEE IF YOU STILL GOT OURS!"

By this time, the baker was wide-awake. He nodded hurriedly and scrambled back to see what he had in storage. Gomer just stood there and grinned. When Miss Bunny talked, people listened. That was why she was such a good match for Sergeant Carter. She even had the same short temper, to boot.

"Please say he still has it, _please _say he still has it!" Bunny murmured under her breath.

But the baker slowly returned, shaking his head. "The other Carter party must've come and picked up your cake, lady. It's not back there."

"Oh, lordy! What a mess!" Gomer exclaimed.

"An address, phone number, isn't there _something _you can give us so we can go switch cakes?" Bunny asked worriedly.

The baker slowly backed away from her. "Yeah, she gave me this address for the nursing home down the street." He hastily handed her a slip of paper.

"Thanks," she replied as she and Gomer hurriedly moved toward the door.

"Wait!" The baker called, forcing them to turn around.

"Can you write down your billing address for me? He did before, and I can't make heads or tails of it." He gestured to Gomer.

Bunny just looked at Gomer, who shrugged and grinned.

-

Down at the nursing home, eighty-year-old Victoria Carter was just about ready to nod off as her friends and family chattered excitedly about her. Bright decorations covered the room, hurting her eyes, and her great-grandchildren would not stop their incessant noisemaking.

_Noise…how I hate the noise, _she thought as she struggled to stay tuned in to her surroundings.

At that moment, a very angry-looking woman and a tall, skinny Marine with a goofy-looking face entered the room carrying a cake box.

She hurried up to one of the men who was standing next to the old lady. "Excuse me, sir. We have your cake. And we're hoping you still have ours."

"Say, what's this all about?" The man said indignantly. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Bunny Carter and I've been planning this young man's wedding for the past six months. I ordered a cake to be picked up, but it was yours by mistake." She held up the lid so he could read the inscription on it. "Now, we have a wedding ceremony that's set to take place in exactly two hours and we have this poor old lady's birthday cake instead of ours. Please say you still have it."

The man nodded. "Sure, it's over there on the counter."

Bunny hurried over and set the birthday cake down. She slapped a boy's hand away from the other cake box. "Do so much as lay a finger on that cake and I'll break you in half!"

As the frightened little boy scurried away, Bunny lifted the lid and sighed. There was their wedding cake, still as immaculate as it had been when it left the bakery.

She picked it up and nodded to the man. "Thank you."

"It was no problem," he turned to Gomer. "And congratulations, son."

"Thank you, sir." Gomer acknowledged before leaning down to the old lady in the wheelchair. "An' happy birthday to you, ma'am!"

"Come on, Gomer!" Bunny pulled him out of the room before he could say anything else.

"All right, I'll hurry this over to the church while you get back to the base and get dressed." Bunny held up the correct cake box.

Gomer nodded. "Right."

"Picked up your uniform, right?"

"Right."

"Okay, go hurry up and change. I'll see you at the church in a little while." Bunny left him at the bus stop as she continued to quickly make her way back to Main Street.

As Gomer stood there waiting for the bus, he couldn't help but feel that he was forgetting something important. They had the right cake, the fare for the bus ride was in his pocket. It had to be something else…

_The uniforms._

"Shazaam!" Gomer's eyes widened as he took off after Bunny. "Miss Bunny! Miss Bunny, wait!"

Bunny stopped and looked at him, but Gomer kept running right on past her.

"Miss Bunny, I plum forgot! I done left me an' Duke's uniforms back at the church hall!"

Bunny started walking as fast as she dared with the cake. They really didn't have a moment to lose now.

-

Duke was hastily pacing the barracks when Gomer finally dashed in with the garment bags, breathing hard.

"Gomer! Where've you been? We only have an hour and a half to get ready and go to the church! I thought you just had to pick up the dry cleaning and call the apartment. What in the world took you so long?"

"I'm sorry, Duke," Gomer panted, trying to catch his breath. "But there was this awful mess with the cakes an'…"

"I know. Something just _had _to go wrong. Things have a way of doing that whenever you're around." Duke grabbed the uniforms and hung them up in Gomer's locker. He pulled out a towel along with his friend's bottles of soap, shampoo, cologne, and hair tonic. He threw them at his buddy. "Go take a quick shower. You're sweating buckets. And," he noted the five o'clock shadow his friend sported, carefully setting his razor on top of the whole jumble. "don't forget to shave, okay?"

"Golly, Duke. I don't know what I'd do without you." Gomer grinned and left the barracks.

As soon as he was gone, Duke checked to make sure he still had the rings. He carefully set them on the closest bunk while he quickly began changing into his dress blue uniform.

-

Duke was pulling on his gloves as Gomer reentered the barracks and put his things away in his locker. He looked in the mirror hanging on his locker as he combed back his jet-black hair. "Duke? I cain't start to tell you how grateful I am for all you've done for Lou Ann an' me. You an' ever'one else has been jus' wonderful to us! I'm grateful, grateful, grateful!" As he turned around, he was presented with his pants.

"Come on, Gomer! You gotta get ready! You're getting married in half an hour!"

"Shazaam!" Gomer grabbed the pants and hastily jerked them on.

"Don't get 'em rumpled!" Duke warned as he held out the jacket for Gomer to slip into.

Gomer buttoned down the front while Duke jerked it down. He quickly dusted the jacket off and checked over his friend. "Swell, you look real swell, Gomer!"

"I ain't finished, yet!" Gomer sat down on his bunk and pulled on his newly shined boots. He fumbled with the laces in his hurry.

"Afternoon, men." Corporal Boyle stepped into the barracks. "Slater, I've got your pass as well as mine. Pyle, I've just secured your leave papers through headquarters. See you in a week!"

Gomer paused and grinned. "Goll-ly. Hear that, Duke? Headquarters granted my leave!"

"Never mind that! You've got to get married first!" Duke tossed Gomer his gloves and grabbed his friend's hat. "Come on, Boyle! Gomer, you can put those things on while we go to the bus stop!"

All three men hurried out of the barracks. A moment passed before Duke came scrambling back in.

"Almost forgot!" He grabbed the rings off the empty bunk and shoved them in his pocket.

-

Gomer looked about him anxiously as the bus pulled up to the base. "Is Sergeant Carter comin'?"

"Yeah, he said he'd be along." Corporal Boyle started up the steps and pulled out a dollar and fifty cents. He held up his hand as Duke and Gomer opened their mouths to protest. "I know it's right before payday and money's tight with all the enlisted men right now. Besides, this is a special occasion!"

Duke and Gomer weren't about to argue with that. As Corporal Boyle paid the fare and they stepped onto the bus, Gomer paused by the bus driver. "You two go on ahead. I'd like a word alone with," he glanced at the driver's nametag, "Larry."

Boyle and Slater shrugged, taking seats close to the front of the bus.

"Larry, can I ask you a question? It's about them bus stops you got in town?" He continued without waiting for an answer. "You see, I got to be at that itty bitty church down at the corner of Main? You know, the one with the Bingo Night on Thursdays sign out front that always gets torn down? Well, the nearest bus stop is half a mile away from there an' I'm getting' married in twenty minutes! You think you could make a special exception an' drop me an' my friends off right there at the church? You know, the itty bitty one down at the corner of Main with the…"

"Yeah, Larry! Come on!" Duke, overhearing the request, joined his friend up front. "This man's gotta get there in time for the most important day of his life! You don't want the bride to get there and think he stood her up, do you?"

"I'm supposed to stay on my scheduled route," Larry growled. "The other passengers…"

"They won't mind!" Corporal Boyle joined the other two up front. "Come on, Larry! This man enlisted to protect your freedom! He's out on the base training every day, willing to lay everything down on the line for you and every one of these passengers! The least you can do is get him to his own wedding!"

"Yeah, Larry, have some heart!" Duke jumped in.

"Lar-ry, Lar-ry, Lar-ry," the rest of the passengers on the bus began to chant.

"All right, all right! Don't think I'm heartless, do you? We'll get him to that church if Larry Pollansky's got anything to say about it!" The bus driver winked at Gomer, who smiled and took his seat.

With that, the bus tore away from the Marine base and headed for town.

-

"Where is Gomer?" Lou Ann cried, anxiously waiting in a small conference room of the church along with the rest of the procession.

"Don't get all riled up, dear." J. R. Poovie, Lou Ann's father, sighed. "I'm sure he just got lost on his way here."

Lou Ann frowned at him. "Stop it, Daddy! You think Gomer's stupid!"

Poovie rolled his eyes. The man made paper flowers and hooked rugs, for crying out loud! "Baby, I can assure you that I'm not alone in that opinion."

"He's a wonderful man! You don't know him like I do! Besides, I love him an' I _will _marry him!"

"He might have stood you up!"

"Gomer wouldn't do that!" Lou Ann turned to Bunny. "Cain't you go check an' see if he's here yet?"

Just as Bunny exited the room to do as she'd asked, Gomer, Duke and Corporal Boyle bounded through the door.

"Miss Bunny! I hope I'm not late! We tried to hurry as fast as we could, honest! Larry even dropped us off right at the door."

"Larry?" Before Gomer could clarify, Bunny shook her head and shoved Gomer and Duke up the aisle. "Never mind! Go stand at your places, boys! Boyle, I've got your seat up near the front, let me show you…"

As she led Corporal Boyle to his seat, dozens of civilians in street clothes came pouring through the church doors. Gomer saw them and waved. "Hey, ever'one! Hey, Larry!"

"Who are they?" Bunny frowned at the newcomers.

"The people we sat with on the bus coming here. Larry's the fella that agreed to drive us here. When we pulled up to the church, Gomer thanked them all by inviting them to the wedding. Looks like they took him up on his offer." Corporal Boyle smiled.

"Well, I guess there's no harm in them sitting in the back few rows. I left those empty on purpose." Bunny stopped near the front. "This is your row, Corporal. Go ahead and get seated while I get these people sorted out. The ceremony will start shortly."

Bunny pushed her way through the crowd and stepped into the meeting room. "Procession! Line up! We're on in two minutes!" She smiled when she saw the excited, hopeful look on Lou Ann's face. "Yes, he's here and he's ready!"

Lou Ann smiled triumphantly at her father. "I told you he wouldn't stand me up."

Mr. Poovie grunted. "That doesn't mean I like him any better for it. Now you have to go through with marryin' the fool."

"Daddy!" Lou Ann exclaimed.

"Two minutes!" Bunny called again before stepping out again.

"Humph," Lou Ann looked the other way as she icily allowed her father to link his arm with hers.

Gomer stood up front with the Chaplain, Duke right behind him. He smiled happily as he waited for the procession to begin. At the back of the room, Bunny anxiously showed his new bus friends which pews they could sit in for the ceremony. It was funny to watch the quick-tempered woman, bedecked in a light blue dress with a white carnation, run around the church, showing the casually dressed civilians where they could and could not sit.

Duke patted his shoulder. "Here we go, buddy. Good luck."

Gomer looked about the quiet room at the faces of everyone he loved who was there wishing him luck, same as Duke. Everyone near and dear to him was there; his grandparents, Lou Ann's mother, Corporal Boyle, Frankie Lombardi, Lester Hummel, all the other men in his platoon, Andy and Opie Taylor, Aunt Bee, Cousin Goober, Barney, Aunt Martha and Uncle Ralph, even Wally, who'd used to own the filling station he'd worked at back home in Mayberry. All of his family, and all of Lou Ann's family, including their dozens and dozens of distant cousins, had attended. Even a few of his other friends from the base had made it out, including the guest of honor: Camp Henderson's own Colonel Edward Grey. He caught Gomer's gaze and smiled. Gomer gave him a small wave in return.

Bunny winked at the bridegroom before disappearing into the meeting room where the procession was lining up.

Just as Gomer was about to turn his attention back up front, the front door of the church opened and Sergeant Carter stepped inside. He glanced around and over his shoulder, as if to make sure no one was watching him. He jumped as the organ player next to him began the processional music. He quickly stepped aside to lean against the wall in the back. He looked down at the floor, hoping that he wouldn't catch anyone's notice.

But Gomer spotted him right away. "Hey, Sergeant!" He called, waving to the figure in the back. Everyone turned around in their seats to see the late arrival.

Sergeant Carter nodded in acknowledgement but looked perfectly miserable. He hadn't wanted everyone to know he'd attended Pyle's wedding by his own free will.

Bunny entered the aisle as part of the procession and caught sight of her husband. "Oh, good, Vince! You made it!"

"Bun-ny," Carter complained, then sighed. He never should have come here to begin with. And for _Pyle, _of all people! He could've just skipped and said something had come up, like an extra detail back at the base. Then again, Colonel Grey was there watching…

He straightened in surprise. Colonel Grey was there! He smiled and laughed. He was going to be on his best behavior for Colonel Grey, even if it killed him. Which it very well might…

Slowly, Lou Ann's bridesmaids walked up the aisle, followed by Bunny, the matron of honor. Behind her came the flower girl, one of Lou Ann's nieces, leading Tipper, the ring bearer, on a leash. When they had all made it to the front, the organ player abruptly stopped the processional music and struck up 'Here Comes the Bride.'

For the first time, the candlelight started to melt into the congregation's faces as the room swirled before Gomer's eyes. Suddenly, a feeling of anxiety rose up within him. He'd been so busy all day that he hadn't had a chance to think about actually getting married. Now, the moment had finally arrived and Gomer felt like he was going to get sick.

"Gosh, Gomer, stay standing!" Duke's hands went out to steady him as Gomer realized he'd been unconsciously rocking back on his heels.

"Duke…I ain't so sure about this now," He whispered over his shoulder.

"Oh, Gomer." Duke moaned miserably. 'You had to wait until _now _to get cold feet?"

"My feet are warm enough. It's jus' my stomach what don't feel too good."

Suddenly, the whole congregation stood as Lou Ann appeared at the end of the aisle on her father's arm. Gomer always seemed to think that she got prettier with each time he saw her. There was no disputing that right now she was the prettiest he'd ever seen her. She was dressed in an elegant, flowing white gown with a beautiful lace collar. Gomer could see her smiling, even through her veil. He gave a little wave and she laughed. She was so radiant that she seemed larger than life itself. The only thing seemingly real about the picture she presented was her father, who looked altogether less than pleased. Slowly, they began moving up the aisle.

Gomer couldn't help grinning as he watched her regal approach. How could he have had any doubts?

Lou Ann could tell her father was taking as slow of steps as he could. She tugged on his arm to get him to go faster. All she could think about was making it to the altar and taking her rightful place beside Gomer.

She was finally seeing Gomer for what seemed like the first time in ages. How good it was to see him again! _I don't think I've ever seen Gomer in his dress uniform before, _she thought as she slowly stepped forward. _He looks so handsome in it! _She returned his smile and tugged at her father's arm again. Mr. Poovie had practically slowed to a stop. A glacier probably moved faster than they did!

She met his genuine, caring gaze and blushed happily. She could see the reflection of the candles behind her flicker in his brown puppy-dog eyes and a chill went down her spine. Now, she thought she understood what Bunny had meant.

Lou Ann and her father finally stopped at the front of the hall before the altar. They had, at long last, arrived. She smiled up at the Chaplain as he looked up gravely from his book.

"Who gives this bride away to this man in good faith?" He asked, his gaze falling on Poovie expectantly.

"I do," He murmured softly through clenched teeth.

As soon as the Chaplain nodded, Lou Ann tried to go up to the altar but something kept her back. She tried again, only to realize her father was still hanging onto her arm. "Daddy, let _go!_" She hissed, jerking her arm away.

Mr. Poovie slowly took his seat, his disapproving scowl still in place. As he sat down next to his wife, she slapped his wrist.

"Ow! What was that for?"

She hushed him and bowed her head as the Chaplain murmured, "Let us pray."

_I cain't help but think I've lost her for good…and to _that _incompetent fool, _Poovie thought, not even listening to the Chaplain's gently lolling voice as he rattled off the Lord's Prayer. _How could I have made such a mistake in giving that idiot my blessing?! I could care less if he's from my home state! Even the serviceman's pay don't matter! He's not good enough for my little girl!_

"Amen," The congregation murmured, raising their heads.

At that moment, when Lou Ann lifted her face to meet Gomer's gaze, it was as though the two were enshrined in their own magical time and place, unaware of anything save each other. Gomer's white-gloved hands slipped over her tiny ones and held them firmly. She looked down at their joined hands and smiled, feeling warmth creeping into her cheeks as she did so.

The rest of the congregation, with the exception of two people, felt good just watching the two. Several of the ladies in attendance began to tear up, including Bunny. Mr. Poovie had a moody expression on his face while Sergeant Carter felt as sick as Gomer, hoping desperately the mushy moment would pass. _Oh, puh-lease! _He rolled his eyes.

The Chaplain broke the silence. "If anyone should object to this marriage, may he speak up now or forever hold his peace."

Mr. Poovie opened his mouth to speak, but one look from his wife caused him to quickly close it again.

-

And that was how they had all come to this moment. The vows had been made, the Chaplain had finished the service, and the rings had been carefully placed on their respective fingers. All that was left was for Gomer to seal the deal with a kiss.

"Come _on, _Gomer!" Duke gently prodded him again.

Gomer didn't know what to do. _Kiss Lou Ann in front of all these people I know?_ To him, the idea was downright embarrassing.

Slowly, he found his hands coming up from his sides. They trembled as they took hold of the veil and lifted it back. Gomer was taken aback by what he found.

He had thought Lou Ann was pretty from far away, but that was nothing compared to her dazzling beauty up close. She looked so modest and ethereal in the candlelight, which lit her features in a way that made them look young and innocent. Her smile seemed so bright itself that it lit the whole room. Her eyes glowed with an intense and loving fire that made Gomer shiver. Her blonde hair elegantly encircled her face, pinned back at the sides to display a pair of pearly white earrings. Gomer had never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life.

Their eyes met, and the embarrassed feeling left Gomer. His stomach settled and his movements lost their stiffness. There was nothing, nothing but he and Lou Ann. He suddenly knew what he had to do.

He leaned forward, lost in her hopeful gaze. His arm slid around her waist, then became confident and strong, holding her snugly. As he moved in closer, Lou Ann reached up and moved his white hat farther back on his head so she could better see his face.

The gap between the two became nonexistent as their lips met. A feeling of ecstasy rose within Gomer as his happy bride kissed him back. The power emanating from their embrace was so intense that it scared him. He'd never felt anything quite like this before.

They slowly broke off, still savoring every last moment of it as they returned to earth and heard the thunderous applause and cheers erupting from the congregation. They turned to watch them and smiled happily. Everyone was on their feet, clapping rapidly and shouting their congratulations to the couple.

The Chaplain had to wipe his eyes before clearing his throat and settling the congregation back down. "May I introduce to you for the first time, Private First Class and Mrs. Gomer Pyle."

Everyone burst into applause again, throwing rice as the newlyweds passed down the aisle.

Gomer held Lou Ann close as they breezed into the reception hall. What an exhilarating day! And the fun was just beginning…


	2. Face Off

**Chapter 2**

_Face Off_

"Goodbye!" Bunny waved her handkerchief at the retreating military jeep and put her arm around her husband. "There they go, bless their little hearts." She placed her head on Sergeant Carter's shoulder and sighed. "I hope their honeymoon's as wonderful as ours was."

"Mmm..." Sergeant Carter had a thoughtful look on his face. "You know what, Bunny? I think those two don't have the smallest clue what they just got themselves into. In fact, I'm sure of it."

"Huh?" Bunny straightened and frowned at her husband.

"Sure! Those two don't have any idea what marriage is all about. Things are going to get complicated now. From now on, all of Pyle's paycheck will have to be deferred to household expenses. That means no more monster movies and chocolate sodas every Saturday. He'll have an apartment in town to keep the rent on. He'll have to check up on Lou Ann there every single night he can spare away from the base. And being an enlisted man's wife is awfully lonely. It strains a relationship! I don't think Lou Ann can handle it."

"You don't?!" Bunny cried indignantly, placing her hands on her hips. "What do you think I've been doing all this time, buddy?"

"Well, you're different! You can handle being alone with the dog most nights." Carter shrugged angrily. "And you know what else? Besides all these new worries and responsibilities to deal with, Pyle's got to keep up on his duties as a Marine! I think Pyle is going to be surprised when he gets back to find he has a lot of extra details and guard duties he'll have to fit around his already busy schedule." He grinned smugly.

"Is that what you're planning? Wipe that smile off your face right now, Vince Carter! What are you trying to do, kill this marriage before it even gets off the ground?" Bunny's face turned stormy as she raised her voice at her husband. "If you so much as intentionally _try _to overload poor Gomer, I'll knock some sense into you the _hard _way!" She shoved a finger in his face, not even close to finishing her rant. "I'll set you straight so fast you won't know what hit you! Just try to start doing those things and I'll give you a taste of your own medicine! Maybe you'd like to suddenly get landed with a bunch of dogsitting jobs, or running errands to the grocery store on your liberties! Or maybe, next Sunday, I'll drive you down to the mall and we can do some clothes shopping..."

"No!" Carter covered his face, trying to block out the awful mental images springing to his mind. All he'd wanted was to make it so hard on Pyle that the boy wouldn't reenlist. But if it meant clothes shopping with Bunny... "Okay, Bunny! Okay! I get the idea!" He frowned unhappily, mad that his wife had beat him yet again in an argument. No matter what the tiff, Bunny always seemed to come out on top. It bugged Sergeant Carter, yet attracted him to her at the same time.

"They sure looked happy, didn't they?" Duke turned in conversation to PFC Lester Hummel. "Gosh, I hope they have a good time."

"Personally, I wouldn't have liked to submit to balancing military service with domestic life, but the decision was his to make," Hummel shrugged. "At the present, I intend to focus solely on my chosen vocation."

"Come on, Les'! You can be happy for them, can't you?"

"Oh, I certainly wish them the most earnest of good fortune." Hummel consented. "I am simply stating that managing a situation like Pyle's is exceedingly difficult." Hummel was silent a moment before asking, "Say, would you have a notion as to where they opted to go on their honeymoon?"

Duke nodded. "Sure. They're going to North Carolina."

"North Carolina?" Hummel frowned perplexedly. "Quite an offhanded choice, I must say."

Duke shrugged. "I know. Not very romantic, huh? But I guess they're homesick. The thought of spending a week in their home state was too tempting to resist. So that's where they've gone."

"Excuse my saying so, but I find the small home towns they come from hardly suitable for the purpose of being together alone."

"Exactly. That's why Bunny and I took care of everything. We've arranged for Gomer and Lou Ann to stay at a seaside resort in Wilmington! It's the perfect romantic getaway that fits their needs."

Hummel nodded. "Now that you mention it, the idea makes perfect sense."

A short distance away from them, two very concerned parents were not having so pleasant an exchange. It was the epic battle of the fathers: Poovie versus Pyle.

"...Why she had to go an' marry that idiot, I'll never know!" Mr. Poovie frowned doggedly up at his taller and broader opponent.

"That's my grandson you're referrin' to, sir!" Otis Pyle's face contorted in rage as he stared down his shorter and stockier adversary. "An' if you don't mind my sayin' so, he's turned out to be one fine young man!"

"How cain you be proud of such a nincompoop?! I don't think I've met anyone stupider in my life!"

Grandpa Pyle leaned down and barked into Mr. Poovie's face, "How dare you insult my grandson an' the Pyle family name?! I'll have you know that my boy is the most genuine, carin', conscientious do-gooder in the entire town of Mayberry!" He smacked his gnarled fingers as he named off the attributes to accentuate his point.

"But he ain't intelligent!" Mr. Poovie retorted. "That boy wouldn't see a snake unless it bit him!"

"For your information, my grandson is trained to handle an m-14 rifle, a bayonet, hand grenade, _an' _a bazooker!" Grandpa Pyle spat. "He is one of the most diligent an' obedient privates in the Marines!"

"He cain be the best Marine in the world an' he still won't make a good husband for my Lou Ann!"

"In case you didn't know, my son loves her above life itself! You're jus' too blind to see it!"

"_I'm_ blind? Your grandson is blind in love!"

"The Pyles pride themselves on sharp an' perfect vision! Gomer is no exception!"

"He may got feelings, but he ain't got a brain! My daughter's so silly, she needs someone knowledgeable to protect her!"

"Protect her? From what? You're jus' upset cause my boy ain't the carbon copy of yourself an' I'm sure glad he ain't!"

"He cain't be there for her! With his work on the base, he'll have to leave my poor baby all alone most of the time! What sort of ridiculous job for a husband is a private in the Marines, anyway?"

Grandpa Pyle colored at the remark. He himself had been a husband when he'd served in the cavalry during World War I. The callousness of the statement had hit below the belt and Mr. Poovie knew it. "Listen, you!" He grabbed a hold of Mr. Poovie's shirt collar and hoisted him up to his level. "Hey may not be a genius-like doctor or anythin', but if he was, your Lou Ann would never have married him! The Marines is the toughest job out there an' my boy made it! On his own! They's the most gallant men there ever was, the toughest an' the bravest there ever was, an' don't you be forgettin' it!"

"Put me down!" Poovie cried, his legs kicking out in a desperate attempt to find the ground. "That is beyond the point! Your grandson's not good enough for my daughter!"

"No one's good enough for your daughter!" Pyle yelled back.

"Cool it, fellas, cool it! Come on, Otis. Put him down." Andy Taylor intervened.

Pyle looked appealingly at Taylor. "But Andy, this feller's been sayin' nuthin' but mean things about Gomer! Mean things!" He turned and snarled again in Poovie's face. "I oughta string you up in a tree..."

"Put me down, why don't ya?" Poovie cried indignantly.

Andy put a hand on Grandpa Pyle's shoulder. "Put him down," he murmured gently.

Otis looked as if he were about to argue, then decided against it and reluctantly dropped Mr. Poovie, who was sent sprawling on the ground.

"Ouch!" Poovie got up and dusted himself off. He turned to Grandpa Pyle, red-faced, and pushed up his sleeves. "All right, you! You've done double-talked me for the last time!"

Before anyone could react, his fist curled into a ball and he sent a left hook that made a cracking impact on Grandpa Pyle's jaw. The ladies shrieked and the men gasped to see the battle erupting between the two "happy" fathers of the couple. Stunned, Otis quickly felt his jaw before belting Mr. Poovie one that made contact with his cheek. Soon, the men were in an all-out brawl and it took several others stepping in to separate them.

"Come now!" Andy cried. "You two ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Behavin' like that while your kids are supposed to be havin' the happiest time of their lives!" He shook his head at the two bloodied-nosed men.

"Yeah, come on! While we're at it, why don't we all join hands and dance around in a happy little circle?" Carter drawled sarcastically, then suddenly straightened up when he caught the murderous looks both Bunny and Colonel Grey were giving him. He cleared his throat and addressed the men the way he did his platoon. "ALL RIGHT, YOU TWO! THIS IS NO PLACE TO SETTLE YOUR STUPID DISPUTE! DON'T YOU KNOW ANY BETTER? HUH?!" He went up to address each one of them personally. "PYLE, I CAN SAFELY SAY THAT YOU MAY BE AN EVEN BIGGER KNUCKLEHEAD THAN YOUR GRANDSON! AND POOVIE," He whirled around to face the other one. "ALL I HAVE TO SAY IS, I'M GLAD YOU'RE PYLE'S FATHER-IN-LAW AND NOT MINE!" With that, he gave a self-satisfied nod and marched off.

The two fathers were greatly ashamed of their conduct. They turned to look at each other in hopes of reconciliation. But one look at the other caused them to frown and coldly turn away again. It seemed the union of Gomer and Lou Ann had only caused a feud to light up between the families.

Andy Taylor looked at the mess and shook his head. Gomer and Lou Ann he didn't have to worry about. If only their parents would get along!


	3. All's Fair

**Chapter 3**

_All's Fair..._

Home again!

At least, that was what Gomer and Lou Ann had thought when they first stepped off the plane at the Wilmington Airport. They soon realized, however, that where they were staying, well…wasn't exactly home.

Their meal that night never tasted better. They had some of their favorites they hadn't had in years and had only mentioned wistfully in their 'back home' talk: collards, black-eyed peas, sweet potatoes and fried chicken…They couldn't seem to get enough of it. In fact, they spent almost as much time exclaiming over the meal as they did gazing at each other and holding hands under the table. Almost.

There was a cab waiting for them outside the airport restaurant, along with their bags. Gomer and Lou Ann hurried across the street and opened the back door.

"Goll-ly. It's like we're very important persons or somethin'." Gomer grinned as he climbed into the backseat.

Lou Ann scrambled in after him, closing the door. The cab started rolling away without even waiting to be told an address, but this she hardly noticed. Lou Ann closed her eyes and laid her head on Gomer's shoulder, snuggling close to him. "Don't look so surprised," she murmured softly in his ear. "To me, you _are _a very important person."

Gomer shook his head, grinning goofily. "Aw, Lou Ann…" His arm went around her close form and he tentatively let it rest around her waist. He was visibly surprised when she made no objection.

Reading his mind, Lou Ann laughed. "Gomer, you silly thing. We are married now, you know."

They both slipped into their own silent reveries. The reality hadn't quite hit Gomer yet that he was actually married. Only gentle reminders in the form of new things were there to separate him from that part of his life he'd officially ended. There was no going back to that time. It was a whole new one that spread before him, one shrouded in mystery and full of new challenges. The thought scared him, causing him to hug Lou Ann even tighter. He was glad she would be there with him every step of the way.

He lowered his gaze to look at his wife and was surprised at the nearness of their faces. He trembled uncertainly for a second, then leaned down and kissed her as if it were the most natural thing to do.

"Gomer…" Lou Ann breathed as they broke off, sighing happily. She took his hand and held it so their wedding bands clacked against each other.

He softly nuzzled her hair, breathing in her warm and lovely-smelling perfume. Suddenly, he was very glad he hadn't let his nervousness take over earlier. The only young lady he'd ever cared a thing about was beside him now and forever. She was the world to him, as he was hers. It was so nice to be with someone who cared so deeply about you. Now he would never be alone again.

-

The two were so engrossed in each other and their own thoughts that they didn't even notice the change of scenery occurring outside the cab windows. At long last their attention was slowly diverted to the present as the cab driver rolled up to a stop in front of their hotel. "Welcome to Wilmington Beach."

"Excuse me," Lou Ann turned to the cab driver as he began gathering their luggage. She slowly gestured to the resort. "Is this where we'll be stayin'?"

"This is where I was told to take you."

Gomer and Lou Ann looked at each other in amazement. _They didn't! _They dashed into the lobby to find out.

"Hey, sir." Gomer greeted the man at the register desk. He held Lou Ann tightly. "Would you mind if I asked you a question? You see, we're afraid there might have been this terrible mix-up an'…"

"What is it?" The clerk asked impatiently.

"Well, could you see if there's a reservation for Pyle here? I'm afraid the cab driver got mixed up an' done took us to the wrong place…"

The clerk consulted his list. "Yep, you're staying here all right. Oh, yes! Pyle!" The man suddenly remembered when the reservation had been placed over the phone. He turned to Lou Ann. "You're Mrs. Pyle, I'm assuming?"

She nodded breathlessly.

"Good." He pulled a key out from under the counter and handed it to them. "You're in room 329. Follow the bellhop up the elevator and he'll take you to your room."

Sure enough, a bellboy came along and picked up their bags, heading for the elevator.

"Wait, sir." Gomer slowly brought his foot up on the counter and pulled his money out of his sock. The clerk looked incredulous, but Gomer didn't even register it. All he could think about was how expensive this place looked. He shifted through his bills, shaking his head at the amount he came up with. He looked sheepishly back at the desk clerk. "Do you think you could give me a serviceman's discount?"

The clerk snapped out of his surprised gaze. "What you say? Discount? No need for that," He waved the money away. "The room's yours for a week, all expenses paid."

"You mean someone else done bought the room for us an' it's free?" Gomer glanced at Lou Ann excitedly, then back at the clerk, who nodded. "Go-oll-ly! Well, bless their hearts! You have a nice night, sir." Caught up in his own excitement, he reached over the counter to shake the man's hand before dashing off to the elevator with Lou Ann in tow.

-

"This is your room." The bellboy unlocked the door of room 329 and gestured for them to step inside.

Gomer and Lou Ann made it through the doorway before freezing in shock. The room was absolutely beautiful! Warm colors decorated the walls. Light curtains hung over the open windows, allowing a cool, seaside breeze to float into the room. The couple had their own desk, closet and spacious bathroom. They even had a color television set! Occupying most of the room was the large white linen bed, looking very soft and inviting.

"Shazaam!" Gomer exclaimed. "They didn't have to go to so much trouble for us!"

Lou Ann let out a squeal as she whirled around, hugging her husband.

The bellhop walked into the room past them, not embarrassed in the least. He set their bags down by the bed and continued on past it to a door at the other end of the room. He opened it and gestured for them to walk out onto the balcony. "I believe you'll find you have one of the best views offered here at the hotel."

Gomer and Lou Ann followed him out and gasped. They had an expansive, wide deck that included chairs and a table. The banister overlooked the sandy beach below, stretching toward the dark blue pristine ocean that shimmered against the setting sun.

"It's beautiful!" Lou Ann cried, swiftly moving over to the railing and admiring the view.

"Do you find the room to your satisfaction?"

"Yes!" They both cried at once.

"What an awful nice thing for them to do!" Gomer shook his head happily and reached down to take out his money from his sock.

The bellhop held up a hand. "No need to tip me. This is all expenses paid, including mine. And, er…" He looked down at where Gomer was reaching for his money. "You might want to consider investing some of that money in a wallet."

Gomer grinned. "Oh, no, sir. You see, all us Marines keep our money in our socks cause we's supposed to be well turned-out no matter where we go. An' money bunches up our uniform when it's in our pants pockets, an' then we ain't well turned-out. That's why we keep it in our socks where it don't mess up our uniform."

The bellboy nodded. "Interesting. Well, please feel free to call the front desk if you need anything."

As he left, Gomer came up alongside Lou Ann and leaned against the railing. "Goll-ly. Jus' think. This here is all ours for a whole week an' we don't even got to pay for it!"

Lou Ann looked over at him lovingly. "Actually, it didn't really matter where we stayed, Gomer. Jus' as long as I had you."

Gomer gathered her up in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Lou Ann, for this whole week it won't be anyone but you an' me. An' I mean that." He looked down at her. "Wasn't it wonderful though, for our friends to do us such a nice turn? Jus' wonderful!"

She smiled ruefully. "What friends?"

"Well, there's Duke an' Miss Bunny an' Sergeant Carter an' Corporal Boyle an' Andy Taylor an' Gran'ma an' Gran'pa Pyle…" He trailed off as his gaze fell back on her. "Oh. I done already forgot, didn't I? I'm sorry, Lou Ann. I won't mention them people again. Whoever they are." He added hastily. "As far as I know, they don't even exist this week." Worry lines creased his brow. "You ain't mad, are you?"

"Actually, I'm not!" Lou Ann laughed and kissed him reassuringly. "Gomer, you're too sweet. No one could ever be mad at you!"

But at that moment, there was indeed someone who was mad at him. In fact, very mad at him…

-

"Annulment?!"

Bunny Carter was gearing herself up for yet another battle. She stood facing Mr. Poovie defiantly.

"Annulment?" Sergeant Carter's face lit up. Could he really believe what he was hearing? This marriage was doing the whole undoing for him! The smile quickly vanished when he caught the look on Bunny's face. The last thing he wanted was for her to add him to her list of enemies. She already had her hands full with Mr. Poovie. "Oh, annulment," he answered flatly, trying to sound as uninterested as possible.

"Yes, I mean to annul their marriage! An' I've got the papers right here to do it!" Mr. Poovie waved a stack of sheets in Bunny's face. "Where's that Chaplain feller? I've got a good attorney an' I'll see they are annulled, jus' you wait an' see!" He grinned smugly.

Bunny turned red. Just who did he think he was, anyway? She wanted to strangle the man so bad, but then she would be up against murder charges instead of annulment. She eventually decided the latter was the lesser of the two evils and willed herself to calm down. "You can't do that!" She exclaimed.

"Jus' watch me, Miss Rabbit Face or whatever your name is!"

Just as Bunny was about to respond, Sergeant Carter rushed to her side. "HEY! WATCH WHAT FLIES OUTTA THAT KISSER, YOU KNUCKLEHEAD! NO ONE, BUT _NO ONE _TALKS TO MY WIFE LIKE THAT BUT ME!"

"Well!" Mr. Poovie spun around and marched over to the elderly Pyles. "I'll have you know that I'm havin' your grandson's marriage annulled!"

"Good!" Grandpa Pyle turned and answered the stunned look on Bunny's face. "I wouldn't be related to that rude feller if you paid me!"

"Vince!" Bunny gripped her husband's arm tightly. "We gotta do something!"

Sergeant Carter shrugged, contemplating what would become of the whole mess. "Well, Bunny. I really don't see what we can do about it. We don't got much of a case, do we? If the parents want it annulled, they'll get it annulled."

Bunny was about to fire a hot retort back when she got an idea. "Wait a minute...just wait a minute!" She started swiftly moving off before realizing she still had a tight grip on her husband's arm.

"Bun-ny! Where are you going?" Sergeant Carter protested. He was tired of being caught up in Pyle's affairs and wanted to spend the rest of his Sunday liberty doing what _he _wanted to do.

She turned around to face him, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Just let them try to file an annulment, just let them! We're going to stop this, Vince! We're going to fight fire with fire!"

-

About two thousand miles away, Lou Ann was taking a shower while Gomer sat in bed, already dressed for the evening in his white t-shirt and underwear. He turned the knob on the television, enjoying the clear and colored picture. He usually had to sit down and order something at one of the local diners back in California to enjoy such quality picture. What a treat!

He paused as a giant green monster filled the screen, terrorizing a tiny city at its feet with its thunderous roar. "What do you know? A Godziller movie!" He exclaimed happily, getting back in bed and settling down to watch it. "I already seen this one, but that's okay." He said to himself. Gomer loved going to the picture show whenever he was in town to watch the latest monster movie. Godzilla was far and away his favorite movie monster. He'd seen every single Godzilla movie made at least two or three times.

He soon became so enraptured in the movie that he was startled when he heard a soft giggle coming from the direction of the bathroom.

"Oh, Gomer. You an' your monster movies."

He turned and saw Lou Ann standing in the doorway of the bathroom, clad in only a thin white nightgown. Gomer didn't know whether he should look away or not. He'd always been taught that it was extremely rude to stare at a woman in her undergarments. But he wondered if the case applied here. After all, it wasn't right for a lady to see a man in his underwear, yet Lou Ann's gaze was concentrated on Gomer alone.

It was then that Gomer really felt the difference of being married. It meant sharing a bed with a lady. He started to grow uncomfortable. Now he would give anything to go back to the barracks, where there was only room for one in his bunk. He'd never slept with anyone else in his entire life. He considered it sort of private.

"Oh, hey, Lou Ann." He stammered nervously as she crawled into bed. He bit his lip as she started moving his way. He closed his eyes, inching closer to his side of the bed, straining his neck in the direction of the nightstand. Sweat broke out in giant beads on his forehead. Couldn't she see how uncomfortable he was?

"It's okay, Gomer. I don't bite."

He slowly opened his eyes to see her sitting next to him in bed, a sullen expression on her face. In her hurt, she had turned to watch the movie on television. He shook his head sadly. She always seemed to know what he was thinking at the worst times. He sighed, cautiously bringing a hand up to caress her cheek. "I'm sorry, Lou Ann. It's jus'..."

"Actually, I know what you mean. I ain't never been married before either, you know."

As they turned back to the movie, Gomer spoke up. "I already seen this one before but I forget how it ends."

"It ends the way they always end," Lou Ann slowly replied, not taking her eyes off the flickering television. "The monster gets electrocuted."

As she said that, the sound of electric wires buzzing blared from the television, followed by the monster's dying roar.

"Now look what you done. You done ruint the endin' for me." Gomer got up and clicked off the television as the credits began to roll up the screen.

"But Gomer, you'd already seen it before! Besides, they always end like that."

"You didn't have to ruin it, anyway." Gomer pouted. Then he looked over at her and grinned. "Did we jus' have our first married people argument?"

Lou Ann clapped her hands together excitedly. "Actually...I think we did!"

"Go-oll-ly!" Gomer laughed and put his arm around her. "I'm sorry, Lou Ann."

"I'm sorry for spoilin' the endin' for ya." Lou Ann leaned over and kissed his cheek. She thought back over the events of the day and smiled. "You know, bein' married is actually kinda nice..."

"You know that's jus' what I was thinkin'? I realized it's kinda like a date only without bein' so formal-like."

"You forgot another thing," Lou Ann whispered, laying a hand on his chest. "The date never ends."

They were quiet for another minute before she spoke up again. "You know, Gomer...there is one thing we ain't done yet..."

Gomer began to squirm uncomfortably again. "Do we really have to?"

"Why not?" Lou Ann sat up. "This is the perfect time and place."

Gomer thought about what she said. She was right. The chance would hardly present itself again when they would have another perfect moment alone together. The longer he thought about it, the more he agreed. "Hey, you know what? I think you're right." He slowly grinned, the idea becoming more appealing to him by the second. "You really want to?"

"Well, I want to if you want to." Lou Ann replied coyly.

"An' I want to if you want to. So do you?" Gomer smiled at her, as if the two were sharing in a wonderful secret.

Lou Ann returned it in full comprehension. She shivered with pleasure. "Let's."

"All right, then." Gomer leapt out of bed and padded over to the windows, closing them and drawing the curtains shut. He hurried to rejoin Lou Ann in bed, jumping in beside her.

"Gomer, you silly thing!" Lou Ann laughed, hitting him in the head with a pillow.

"Wait!" Gomer reached over to the nightstand. "Almost forgot the most important part!" He fumbled in the dark before finally turning on the lamp. He repositioned it so it shone its beam on the wall.

"Now," Gomer put his arm around Lou Ann, who snuggled close anxiously. She looked at the wall intently as Gomer raised his hand in front of the light. "Guess what this is!"

"A dog!...a rabbit?...a swan?" Lou Ann frowned as Gomer shook his head at each of the answers. "I give up, Gomer. What is it?"

"A giraffe!" He exclaimed proudly.

"I never would have guessed!" Lou Ann cried. "Now it's my turn." She held up both of her hands to depict her animal.

"A turkey!" Gomer cried.

"Yes! How'd you know?" She looked over at him expectantly.

"Well, it was all on account of this arts an' crafts project I had to make once in preschool for Thanksgivin'. We had to trace our hands around a sheet of paper an' then color it so it looked like a turkey."

"So did I!" Lou Ann cried exultantly.

"No way. The very same project?"

She nodded, then her eyes lit up in surprise as Gomer hugged her.

"Shazaam! What a neat thing! You know, you always was the best girl to do shadow puppets with. Other girls, they just warn't interested. But you sure do an' I'm glad. It makes you special, is what."

Lou Ann smiled under the praise. "I don't see how all that matters when I never cain seem to beat you." She leaned against him happily. "It's your turn, Gomer."

When he didn't respond, she looked up worriedly, only to meet his loving gaze. "What is it, darlin'? Somethin' wrong?"

Gomer slowly shook his head. "Not anymore." He held her close and looked solemnly at the beam on the wall. "I love you, Lou Ann."

"I love you too, Gomer."

-

As a new day dawned over Camp Henderson, the Chaplain entered his office and yawned. He was still trying to wake up. He hadn't turned in till late last night, so he was still pretty sleepy. Who knew those Bingo Nights at the church could last until three o' clock in the morning? He set the mug of coffee he'd poured down on his desk and began to set about the morning's work.

Outside his office, the secretary, a staff sergeant, turned and nodded to the man waiting impatiently in front of his desk. "The Chaplain just came in. Do you want me to call and ask if he'll have you come in?"

"Please." The man motioned the secretary urgently. He wrung his hands behind his back. He felt bad for doing this, but he had to. Lou Ann's best interests depended on it. As soon as the papers were legalized, he'd take her back to Turtle Creek where she belonged. Maybe he could even try getting her back together with Monroe Eeford. After all, he was much better suited for a girl like Lou Ann...

He snapped out of his thoughts as the secretary hung up the phone. "The Chaplain will see you now."

The Chaplain was carefully sipping his hot coffee when Mr. Poovie burst through the door. "Good morning, Mr. Chaplain. Do you remember me? I'm J. Randolph Poovie."

"Ah, yes. I performed the service for your daughter yesterday, if I remember correctly." He took a careful, long sip.

"Yes. About that. I need your help. I want my daughter's marriage annulled."

The Chaplain was so shocked, he burned his mouth. Sputtering, he put his cup down and started gesturing wildly for a napkin.

"I am very sorry, sir! Here," Mr. Poovie pulled a hankie out of his jacket pocket. "Use this. I insist."

"Well!" The Chaplain exclaimed as he dabbed his mouth, trying to speak through his burnt tongue. "What's the meaning of all this? Why could you possibly want her marriage annulled?"

"Just what I mean to say! I've been thinkin' it over, an' I've come to a conclusion. That boy she married is a good-for-nothing imbecilic jellyfish! He may care for her, but that's where his side of the pro's end. Besides, his grandfather is a rough, piggish brute to boot. All in all, Private First Class Gomer Pyle is NOT good enough to be married to my daughter!"

"Uh-huh." The Chaplain grunted, thinking the matter over.

Suddenly, the telephone rang. He picked it up on the first ring. "This is the Chaplain speaking...yes...yes, send them in." He hung up the phone and turned back to Mr. Poovie. "Now, sir. If you'll excuse my saying so, I do not believe in parents meddling in their children's affairs, especially when it concerns the topic of love. PFC Pyle is of exceptional character and merit in my opinion. Though I'll admit he's slightly inept, he's honest and true. I believe he'll do very well for your daughter."

At that moment, Sergeant Carter and Bunny rushed into the room. "Whatever you do, don't listen to him, Chaplain!" He panted in his hurry. "This man has no right to annul Pyle's marriage."

"You have no say in the matter," Mr. Poovie stiffened coldly. "You are not the father of the bride."

"But I'm as good as Pyle's momma and Poppa! I'm his sergeant and I have been for five whole years!" Carter yelled in Poovie's face.

Poovie just sniffed. "I don't see what your rank has to do with your present involvement."

"Did you just hear this clown?! Did ya? Huh?!" Carter exclaimed, throwing his arms out angrily.

Luckily, before he could say any more, Bunny quickly stepped in. She bravely stood nose to nose with Mr. Poovie, glowering with rage. "Look here, you lunkhead! This is your last chance to soak some of this in before we start knockin' it into ya! YOU CAN'T GET THE MARRIAGE ANNULLED!"

"I cain, too! I'm the concerned parent!" Mr. Poovie puffed out his chest importantly.

Bunny jabbed a finger in his stomach, causing him to inhale sharply. "Why don't you deflate already, you pompous goat! Then maybe you'll listen to what we have to say!"

Mr. Poovie's eyes widened in indignation. "Well! I've never met a ruder bunch of people in my entire life!"

"Well, that's just fine!" Sergeant Carter yelled back. "Cause we actually tell the truth, and the truth is, you _are _provis!"

"That's 'pompous', Vince." Bunny whispered in his ear.

"That's what I said! Pupess!"

"In any case," The Chaplain had to raise his voice to be heard above the shouts. "I believe the sergeant has a point."

"You mean I cain't?" Mr. Poovie exclaimed in dismay. "What for?"

"For a very simple reason," Sergeant Carter came up in Mr. Poovie's face. "You don't have a case."

"I beg your pardon!" Mr. Poovie began laughing. "You had me there for a while. What a ridiculous statement! Me, not having a case!" He suddenly straightened up and yelled back at the sergeant. "MAN, ARE YOU MAD? OF COURSE I HAVE A CASE!"

The Chaplain cleared his throat. "I believe Sergeant Carter is right."

"What?!" Mr. Poovie stammered. "Why do I not have a case?"

"To put it quite simply, you did not contest the marriage and in fact gave your blessing before a whole congregation of witnesses."

-

Back in Wilmington, Lou Ann walked out onto the balcony, enjoying the rich sea breeze of the early afternoon. She turned to her husband, who was seated on one of the deck chairs, and smiled. He was sound asleep. Of course, that was probably because they hadn't done much sleeping last night. Lou Ann grinned just remembering it.

She walked over and sat down in the chair beside him. But instead of enjoying the view, she contented herself to study Gomer instead.

His khaki shirt was only halfway buttoned over his t-shirt. He must have sat down to fasten it and had fallen asleep instead! His hands hung loosely at his sides and he had a large smile on his peaceful face.

_I'm glad he's havin' pleasant dreams, _Lou Ann thought happily, propping her head up on one arm.

The sea breeze riffled his hair, blowing it gently in the direction of the wind. Lou Ann loved how his dark hair sometimes fell over one eye. She reached out to lay a hand on his arm. Gomer was instantly awakened by her touch.

"Hey, Lou Ann." He said softly, smiling as he saw her. Then he looked down at his half-buttoned shirt. "Did I fall asleep again?"

"It's all right, darlin'." Lou Ann patted his cheek before kissing the top of his head. "I didn't mind. After all, you need your rest."

"But goll-ly, Lou Ann. I'm supposed to be spendin' time with you," Gomer protested, ignoring the motherly comment. "Who knows when the next time'll be when we get to spend so much time together?"

Lou Ann's smile slowly faded. Gomer was right. After this week was over, he'd return to the base and she wouldn't get much time with him from then on. His visits would only be able to last hours before he'd have to leave again. Tears sprang to her eyes. This vacation was so wonderful. But was it only a farce? Only a temporary state of elation they'd never be able to find again, much less each other?

"There now, Lou Ann." Gomer murmured, taking her into his arms. "I didn't mean to get you all upset. We'll jus' forget I ever said a word."

"But it's true!" Lou Ann cried, clutching his shirt tightly.

"Nobody said things was gonna be easy," he said lowly in her ear. "People done told me it was gonna be tough. But that shouldn't matter to us. We love each other enough to get through anythin' together. Includin' spendin' time apart."

"Gomer, you're wonderful!" Lou Ann smiled, looking up into his eyes. "You know jus' how to make me feel better."

Gomer tentatively reached up and smoothed her hair. "Hey," he murmured, "I like things tough. Why else you think I up an' joined the Marines?"

Lou Ann stood on tiptoe to kiss him. It was warm and soft, and neither was ready to stop when they broke off. Gomer raised his eyebrows at how nice it was and leaned in for another one. This one lasted longer, causing both of them to tremble at the raw emotion they were feeling. Again, Gomer got the same eerie feeling that this was something much more important than either of them or anything else they had done. This was a bond, built to last a lifetime.

The thought of losing Gomer was terribly upsetting to Lou Ann. She never wanted to be alone again. She kissed him harder, glad he was there with her now and never wanting the moment to end.

When they finally did break off, she sagged against Gomer, emotionally spent. Gomer was grinning from ear to ear. "Shazaam!" He exclaimed. "No one's ever kissed me like that before. An' you know what? I liked it...Lou Ann?" He held up her limp form in gentle concern.

Lou Ann weakly smiled and reached up to brush the black stray strands away from his eyes. "Gomer, if you cain be brave, I cain be brave." She laughed, looking more like herself with each passing moment. She got up and moved over to the railing, looking in fascination at the beach below. "Come now. We cain't spend all day sittin' around like this! How about we go down to the beach an' swim a while?"

Gomer smiled and shook his head. "Lou Ann, you're jus' too good to be true."

-

Later that evening, Gomer and Lou Ann seated themselves in a booth situated in a cozy corner of the nearby diner. Their hair was still damp from the swim they'd just taken and they were still talking about all the little creatures living in a nearby tide pool they had recently befriended. Gomer grinned at Lou Ann. He'd never had as much fun with any other person alone together. But then again, Lou Ann was a very special girl. He'd never met anyone like her before, and suspected he never would again.

"You know what, Lou Ann? I ain't very hungry." Gomer slowly set his hand on top of hers.

"That's funny, Gomer. Actually, I ain't very hungry, either!"

"Well, I'll be!" Gomer exclaimed. They simply smiled at each other for a minute before he remembered what he wanted to do. "Lou Ann?"

"Mmm?" She asked, leaning against him happily.

"You mind if I go up front an' check what kind of soders they have? I think I'll jus' order one of them."

Lou Ann nodded. "Okay."

"I'll be right back. You sure you'll be fine? Don't need anythin' I cain get for you?" Gomer scooted out of the booth and turned to consult her.

She laughed. "No, Gomer. I'll be perfectly all right."

"Okay, now." He smiled and headed up toward the counter.

After he'd left, a man came out of the back of the diner and leaned against the wall, casually scanning the room. He took a draw on his cigar, giving a winning smile to some fresh pretty faces in the crowd and then trying to go unnoticed by others who knew him a little too well.

His eyes lit up when he saw Lou Ann seated at a booth all by herself and cooly strolled over to her.

Without even pausing to greet her, he stopped close to where she sat and pretended not to be looking at her. "What's your name, beautiful?"

"I beg your pardon," Lou Ann turned, startled to see the uncouth man standing by her booth. "Were you addressin' me?"

"Who else in here's beautiful compared to you?" He turned and smiled down at her.

Lou Ann thought she was going to be sick. "Then you'll look at me when you address me," She replied coldly, looking away at the window. The man was what some women might consider suave or handsome, but Lou Ann hardly cared. He had absolutely no manners!

As if to confirm her thoughts, the man slid into the booth right beside her. He shoved his face right in front of hers and smiled again. "This better?"

"Honestly!" Lou Ann looked away, discomfited. Who did this man think he was, anyway?

The man laughed. He loved these aloof, hard-to-get types. "I'm Sam. Sam the Handyman. But you can just call me Sam. And what would your name be?"

"Lou Ann Pyle." She scowled down her nose at him as if he were some sort of revolting insect before turning away.

"Well, Miss Pyle," Sam grinned and pushed back his sandy hair in an effort to attract attention to himself. "How about dumping this joint and movin' on over to my apartment? What do you say to that?"

"Actually, I..." Lou Ann trailed off and suddenly smiled, waving. "Hey, Gomer!"

Sam turned to see a tall and skinny Marine with a goofy-looking face walking up to the table, carrying an ice cream soda. "Hey, Lou Ann! I didn't know you had company." He set the soda down on a table and gave Sam a small wave. "Hey, sir. Ain't you gonna introduce us, Lou Ann? He'd be more than welcome to join us."

Sam glanced from the Marine back to Lou Ann, who was smiling wildly up at the serviceman. He quickly got up, shaking his head. "No. No, thanks. Three's a crowd."

"Are you sure? Lou Ann an' me was jus' gonna get some ice cream soders 'fore we went back to the room. We love meetin' all sorts of new people, even though it is our honeymoon an' all. We really wouldn't mind, wouldn't we, Lou Ann? You like ice cream soders?" Gomer looked expectantly at Sam.

"Get outta here!" Sam pushed past him rudely. What a dumb kid! And to be caught hitting on his wife, too! He started scanning the restaurant again, but had to look back at the booth he'd just come from out of curiosity.

Lou Ann was wiping the Marine's face with a napkin as he sipped his soda. She leaned close and kissed his cheek, laughing as he colored slightly. She laid her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. His arm went around her and he murmured something in her ear that made her smile.

Sam shook his head. What was it about a stupid country hick leatherneck that appealed to a pretty girl with class like her? He shook his head in disgust. "Some guys have all the luck."

-

Later that week, Sergeant Carter was out on a hike with the platoon, leaving Corporal Boyle to begin attacking the barrage of paperwork lying on their desks at Camp Henderson.

Just as he was about to light into it, the phone rang. He sighed, checked his watch, and got up to answer it. As he did, he swatted at a bunch of mosquitoes hovering around him and tugged on his collar. It was going to be a hot one today.

He picked up on the second ring. "Company B, Corporal Boyle speaking." A look of surprise crossed his face as he recognized the voice of the caller. "No, he's not here right now. I'm not sure when he'll be back...Can I take a message?...Got it. I'll be sure to give it to him." Corporal Boyle hung up the phone and shrugged, returning to his paperwork.

A few hours later, Sergeant Carter breezed in. He sighed. "What a vacation! Without Pyle there to mess everything up, that hike went off without a hitch! And look at this," he pulled a stopwatch out of his pocket and showed it to the corporal. "Can you believe that time? Can you just believe it? That's the fastest those knuckleheads have ever completed that hike and they shortened their record by _two whole hours!_ Yes, sir!" Carter carefully set the watch down and sat on the edge of his desk. "It just goes to remind me how fun hikes are without the problem child tagging along." He laughed and took out a cigar. "I've got the men out policing the area right now. We've got an inspection in ten minutes." He smiled at the ceiling, deep in thought. "You know what, Boyle? I think I'm just now beginning to understand again why I love being a sergeant."

He suddenly realized that Boyle hadn't said a thing since he'd walked in. He looked over to see the corporal staring at him intently. "What's the matter? Have I got something on my face or what?"

Boyle shook his head. "It isn't that, Sarge. I took a phone call while you were out."

Carter shrugged. "So you took a phone call. I don't see what's so special about that."

"It was from headquarters. The Colonel wants to see you in his office right away."

Carter stared at him in shock for a second before realizing he was tapping ashes all over his pants. He jumped up, grabbing his hat and brushing his pants off. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?!" He exclaimed, handing Boyle his cigar. "Put this out for me, will ya?" With that, he hurried out of the duty hut.

Corporal Boyle shook his head and extinguished the cigar.

Sergeant Carter briefly touched the stripes on the arm of his shirt and he hurried across the base. As always, he was afraid of losing them. _If this has anything to do with Pyle, _he thought grimly, _then I'll have no choice. No matter what Bunny says. When he gets back, he's not going to be doing any sandpile details or KP or guard duty. He won't be able to do them cause I'll kill him first!_

_-_

Lou Ann sat forlornly on the beach, letting the sand trickle through her fingers. She stared out at the seemingly endless ocean, which had turned a soft peach color, sparkling before the setting sun. This week with Gomer had been wonderful, but now it was all over. Tomorrow, they'd have to return to the rest of the world and weather the problems it had in store for them. For better or for worse.

Gomer stood a few feet away, skipping rocks across the water's surface. He watched their progress earnestly, counting how many hops they took before sinking. "Go-oll-ly. Jus' look at 'em go, Lou Ann!" He turned to her and the grin slowly left his face. "Lou Ann? What's wrong?"

Lou Ann slowly met his gaze. "Gomer, this vacation's been wonderful. I don't want it to end!"

Gomer carefully laid aside his socks and shoes, which he'd taken off earlier, and sat down in the sand beside her. He hugged his knees and looked at her worriedly, burying his toes in the soft sand. "I wisht I could make it go on longer for you. But I cain't." He lowered his gaze to the ground in defeat. "I'm real sorry 'bout not bein' able to do much for you. I feel terrible, jus' terrible!"

"Don't be. You've been yourself, Gomer. An' that's what I love about you."

They'd spent the week together, doing what they loved to do. They'd taken a historical tour and saw the sights. They'd done various boat rides across the harbor, both in the daytime and the nighttime. They'd even driven a few miles out of Wilmington to go to an aquarium and a petting zoo. They'd spent a day at the park feeding the pigeons and then had waited to see the fountain lights turn on. Yesterday, they'd even visited some Civil War sites so Gomer could add a few more pictures to his cannon picture collection. And last night, they had visited the movie house in town. Gomer had let Lou Ann pick what movie they saw, and she'd insisted on 'Casablanca.' By the time the movie was over, Lou Ann was crying her eyes out. Gomer had tried to console her, but she'd been near hysterics. He'd taken her back to the hotel and gently put her to bed, where she'd slowly cried herself to sleep.

Gomer knew she'd been overwrought these past couple of days at the thought of their exclusive time together ending. That's why if it had been up to him, he would have chosen 'Ma and Pa Kettle Go to Hawaii.' It was one of his favorite movies. He especially loved the scene where Ma and Pa Kettle were on the porch swing and... well, that was another story. But it was very funny, and he figured it would have lightened the mood a bit. But Lou Ann should have had the choice. After all the monster movies he'd dragged her to, it was the least he could do. She'd been insistent on the dramatic romance film classic. And ever since Bogart had uttered, "We'll always have Paris," Lou Ann had been close to inconsolable.

Gomer shook his head. It was as if Lou Ann had put up a mental barrier to prepare herself for their eventual separation. But it wasn't permanent. They'd still be seeing more of each other than they'd had before!

He slowly turned to her. "You know what, Lou Ann?"

She stuck out her lower lip. "What?"

"I think you'd look real purdy with sand in your hair." Gomer scooped up a handful from right beside him and poured it over Lou Ann's head.

"Gomer!" She spat angrily, flicking it out of her eyes. "What was that for?!" Upon seeing his goofy grin, she picked up an even larger handful and dumped it over his head.

Gomer was quick to react. He quickly scooped up some more sand and dropped it down Lou Ann's shirt. On seeing the outraged look on her face, he leapt up and started running down the beach.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Lou Ann cried, picking up another handful and running after him.

He ran only a few yards down the coast before he stopped and turned around. Lou Ann wasn't prepared for it, so she ran right into him. His arms went around her, holding her close. To Lou Ann's indignation, he was laughing. She tried twisting around to throw the sand in his face, but she ended up unbalancing herself, sending the two of them to the ground.

The surf licked at the beach, running over them in the fading light. Lou Ann sunk her fingers into the wet sad and sighed. "Thanks, Gomer. I needed that."

To her surprise, she looked up and found she was lying on top of him. His arms were still around her, his eyes closed. He was smiling, as if he felt right at home with the water running over his chest as he basked in the last rays of the setting sun. The tousle had freed his stray strands from where he kept them carefully combed back, and they blew over his forehead in the gentle evening breeze.

Lou Ann shook her head, playing with the folds of his shirt lovingly. He knew just how to cheer her up. Sweet, lovable Gomer. He'd go to the ends of the earth just to make her happy. Maybe they would be able to make it, after all.

She leaned down and kissed him, closing her eyes as she did so. Gomer sat up in surprise. He'd never expected this kind of thanks. When a dizzying sensation befell him, he knew that it was getting far too heavy. He stood, carrying Lou Ann in his arms down the beach. As they finally broke off, she laughed and hugged him tightly as he carefully set her feet back on the ground.

She stood in front of him, wet and covered with sand, facing the sunset. She brought her arms behind her back where they entwined in Gomer's, who held her. He leaned over her shoulder to whisper softly in her ear;

"You know what, I don't think that sun is settin' at all. For us, that sun is risin'."

As Lou Ann mulled over his words, she realized he was right. Tears sprang to her eyes. "Oh, Gomer. That was beautiful. I didn't know you could make up things like that."

Gomer smiled bashfully. "Well...I really didn't. You see, that's what Ma Kettle says to Pa Kettle at the end of 'Ma an' Pa Kettle Go to Hawaiier.' There was this scene, an' they was watchin' the sun set too, only they was sittin' on this porch swing, an'..."

Lou Ann smiled as he babbled on. There wasn't anyone else quite like Gomer. And she wouldn't change him for the world.


	4. Up or Out

**Chapter 4**

_Up...or Out_

"Sergeant Carter reporting as ordered, sir!"

Colonel Grey looked up. "At ease."

Carter brought one foot out away from the other and folded his arms behind his back in one swift movement.

"Sergeant, I've been looking through the service records of some of your men and something has come to my attention." He moved some files on his desk and glanced up at Carter, who had a funny expression on his face. "Something wrong, Sergeant?"

"Sir, requesting your permission to put forth a question."

"Does it have to do with the present situation?"

"Yes, sir."

"Granted."

"Sir, if I may...does this have anything to do with Private Pyle?"

"As a matter of fact, it does, Sergeant. Why do you ask?"

"Sir, I can explain. Of course, as his sergeant, I'm to blame and I take all responsible credit. Let me apologize in advance for whatever he's done..."

"Sergeant."

_Here it comes..._ "Yes, sir?"

"Pyle has done nothing wrong. In fact, all the wrong doing has been solely on your part."

"My part, sir?"

"Yes, Sergeant. Pyle and a few other PFCs in your platoon have maintained that rank for nearly five years. You are aware of that, Sergeant?"

"Sir,"

"As you know, in the Marine Corps, the maximum time allotted for an enlisted man to keep the rank of Private First Class is five years."

"Yes, sir."

"The policy of the Marine Corps is 'up or out.' If you don't see these men are promoted to lance corporal and quickly, I'm afraid their enlistment will be up."

"Yes, sir." Here was his chance! Thrown right into his lap. He couldn't have asked for anything better! The wheels were already turning in Carter's head. Oh, what a happy day when he would tell Pyle he could not, under any circumstances, continue in the Marines!

"Here's the list of men who need to be promoted." Colonel Grey handed Carter a sheet of paper from on top of the desk. He frowned at the sudden change that had come over the sergeant. It was as if he suddenly looked...happy. And Grey knew why. He cleared his throat. "The Corps would hate to lose these men simply because they weren't able to take a step up or were in some way misinformed. See to it that you get on this assignment right away." _Or else, _his look implied sternly.

"Yes, sir!" Carter took the paper and snapped to attention. He promptly saluted his superior officer and waited until it was returned before stepping back and exiting the office.

As Carter made his way back to the duty hut, he groaned in despair. The colonel was onto him. He _had _to make an honest effort with the boy now! He looked down at the list that was handed him. It wasn't very long.

'ALLENS, DASHER, HUMMEL, LEBROWSKI, LOMBARDI, OWENS, **PYLE.'**

The sergeant grimaced and rolled his eyes at the last name. That knucklehead had been the last private in the platoon to be promoted to PFC. It was only by some sort of miracle that he had at all, at that. He couldn't not tell Pyle about it or give the boy deliberate wrong information. That would be a direct breach of the colonel's orders, and he would be letting the Corps down, besides. What if, for some reason, if Pyle was let go and then he joined another branch of the service, maybe even make it to admiral or general? Carter would be the one to blame for letting him go. No, he had to try to get Pyle promoted. But _how in the world _was he going to do it? Pyle, a lance corporal? Why, Carter might just as well teach him to fly!

_The number of grey hairs on my head is going to increase ten times over by the time I'm through with him, _Carter thought dismally, remembering all the other failed attempts to get Pyle promoted in the past. _Even when he's not here, I don't get a break! Am I destined to be tortured by Pyle the rest of my life?_

Of course, the sergeant knew the boy's intentions were good and his heart was in the right place. But as a trainee, he was a sergeant's worst nightmare!

He slammed back into his office and threw the list down on his desk. He'd have to wait until Pyle was back tomorrow to make the announcement to the men. Carter shook his head and slammed his locker door wide open, looking angrily in the mirror before unfastening his tie.

"Something wrong, Sarge?"

"Oh, shut up, Boyle!"

The corporal threw his arms up. "Okay. Just thought I'd let you know that Pyle…"

"Don't say that name!" Carter whirled around and thrust a finger warningly in Boyle's face.

Boyle raised his eyebrows, taken aback by the sergeant's flaring temper. "Say, what did the Colonel tell you that's got you so hacked off all of a sudden?"

"None of your business!" Carter marched over to his desk and looked down at the barrage of papers that scattered it. Seeing the list from where he'd thrown it down, he quickly snatched it up and shoved it in one of the drawers, slamming it shut forcibly.

"All right. But I still have to tell you that a certain PFC with the initials GP stepped in while you were gone to tell you he's back from leave. He's unpacking in the barracks right now."

"That's fine. _Just _fine!" Carter whipped out a cigar and lit it, shaking out his lighter before storing it away. "Right when I can't seem to hear enough about the goof, he ends up coming home a day early! Well, I'm not going to have any more of it. I'm gonna cut outta this joint as fast as I can tonight and go see my wife. For the rest of this evening, I don't want to have anything to do with…"  
"Hey, Sergeant!"

Carter repressed a groan as Gomer entered the duty hut, dressed in his green fatigues. He held his forage cap in his hands, and he was wearing that stupid grin on his face.

"Corporal Boyle said you was in the Colonel's office when I come in here earlier, so I didn't get a chance to say hey an' tell you I'm back. Well, I jus' wanted to say hey an' I'm back!"

"That's nice, Pyle. Good night." Sergeant Carter turned away to discourage any further conversation.

Gomer didn't take the hint. "Is there anythin' I cain do for you, Sergeant? Cause you jus' say the word an' I'll do it. I been away for so long that I don't want to not be pullin' my weight an' you know I wouldn't want that, don't you, Sergeant? So if there's anythin' that needs doin', you jus' let me do it. Jus' say the word an'…"

Carter released his wrath on Pyle. "YES, THERE IS SOMETHING YOU CAN DO FOR ME! THERE'S A SANDPILE OUT BACK I WANT MOVED TO BEHIND THE MESS HALL! AND ONCE YOU'RE FINISHED WITH THAT, I WANT YOU TO CLEAN YOUR RIFLE FOR AN ARMS INSPECTION TOMORROW AND THEN YOU'LL BE WALKING THE BACK GATE WITH IT THE REST OF THE NIGHT CAUSE I'M STICKING YOU WITH GUARD DUTY! HOW ABOUT THAT?!"

Gomer just grinned. "Goll-ly. It sure is nice to be home again."

-

Early the next morning, Gomer was awakened to the sound of reveille and Sergeant Carter shouting, "ALL RIGHT, YOU KNUCKLEHEADS, UP AND AT 'EM! MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE IT!"

Gomer quickly dressed and raced outside to stand at attention. Unfortunately, he wasn't as fast as his comrades and was the last to join the lineup just as Sergeant Carter had begun strolling down the row.

As he hurriedly fell into line, still pulling his forage cap on over his head, Carter ran up to his place and met him eye to eye. "PYLE! HAVING A WEEK'S LEAVE IS NO EXCUSE FOR BEING LATE! IN THE MARINE CORPS, THERE IS NO ROOM FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE LATE! TARDINESS IS UNACCEPTABLE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND, PRIVATE?!"

"Yes, sir. An' I sure am sorry, sir. It was all my fault. You see…"

"PYLE, YOU DO NOT SPEAK WHEN YOU'RE AT ATTENTION! DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT LEARN THAT ON THE FIRST DAY OF BOOT CAMP?!"

"Well, yes, but…"

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT, PYLE! EXCUSE OR NO EXCUSE, YOU WERE LATE!" Carter stepped back to address the rest of the men. "The rest of you men will be sent up to the rifle range for practice with the mortar. But not you, Pyle!" he added hastily. "You are excused from this morning's duties. Instead, you are going to go lie down in your bunk and practice getting into formation when I call you! You're going to do it again and again, until you're sure you can keep up with the rest of the men! Then you will clean every inch of those barracks till they shine! Is that clear?!"

"Yes, Sergeant." Gomer replied softly.

"All right!" Carter stepped back. "PLATOON, DISMISSED!"

As Corporal Boyle marched the rest of the men out to gather their equipment from the supply shed, Carter turned to Pyle, who was still standing in front of him. "Pyle, I said dismissed! Now, move it!"

"Sergeant? I jus' wanna thank you for pointin' out my ever' failin' like only a true friend would. I'm downright neglectin' my duties as a Marine an' you're helpin' me jus' as kind as you cain to get me on top of things again. I really do appreciate all this special attention you's givin' me, so I jus' thought I'd let you know. I'm grateful, grateful, grateful!"

Sergeant Carter stepped back forward until their noses touched. "DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME THE FIRST TIME?!" He pointed angrily in the direction of the barracks. "GO GO GO GO GO!"

As Pyle hurried off, Carter shook his head. How could he promote that boy to lance corporal when he was having trouble performing the duties of PFC as it was? He closed his eyes in despair. It was still a mystery to him.

-

Gomer winced, feeling his back as he scrubbed vigorously at the barracks floor. He'd used Aunt Bee's special method of washing windows to produce an exemplary shine on them. He'd taken all the mattresses and sheets out back to give them a thorough cleaning. He'd swept and dusted until he felt his arms would fall off. Now he was carefully going over every inch of the floor with a fine-tooth comb, a bucket of soapy water at his knees. He paused in his work to wipe his brow. Cleaning the barracks was no easy task.

As Sergeant Carter poked his head in the doorway, Gomer quickly scrambled to his feet in order to stand at attention. In the process of doing so, he knocked over the bucket of suds, sending them splashing across the floor. He stood before Carter uncertainly, wanting to apologize and clean up his mess but decided against it. The sergeant would probably only yell at him for that.

He needn't have worried, because Carter yelled at him anyway. "PYLE, YOU KNUCKLEHEAD! CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT?! CLEAN THAT UP AND REPORT OUTSIDE FOR RIFLE INSPECTION IMMEDIATELY!" With that, Sergeant Carter disappeared in a huff.

Gomer hurriedly mopped up the mess as best he could before grabbing his rifle to join the lineup outside.

"PRESENT ARMS!" Carter yelled, causing the whole platoon to bring their rifles up from their sides and bear them for the inspection.

As Carter slowly moved down the line, checking each man's rifle as he went, Gomer tried hard to suppress a grin. He'd been yelled at for smiling in the ranks before, too. But he'd cleaned his rifle till it shone the other night. He admired how it gleamed in the sun now. For once, he'd done something right. Sergeant Carter was going to be so proud of him!

Carter stopped a minute before Pyle, squinting. The gold wedding band on Pyle's finger was blinding him. Irritated, he grabbed the private's rifle and began checking it. He paused, a look of anger and dismay creeping over his face. "What is the meaning of this, Pyle? I thought I ordered you to clean this rifle!"

Gomer smiled. "Yes, sir. I sure did."

"No you didn't, you dirty person! Look at this!" Carter pointed to a spot on the rifle accusingly.

Pyle peered at it. There, where his hands had been holding the rifle, were unmistakable smudges of dirt. He glanced down at his hands and suddenly remembered the occasion. When he had been airing out one of the mattresses, he'd tripped and fallen. When he'd thrown his hands out to catch himself, they'd landed in a pile of mud. The mattress had, too, so he'd had to do it over. His hands were still muddy from the experience and had smeared his perfectly cleaned rifle when he'd grabbed it.

Gomer shook his head, disappointed that he'd let Sergeant Carter down yet again. "I sure am sorry, Sergeant. It was all my fault. You see…"

"I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT, YOU DIRTY PERSON! I GAVE YOU AMPLE WARNING FOR THIS INSPECTION AND YOU LEFT THIS RIFLE DIRTY! DIRTY DIRTY DIRTY DIRTY DIRTY! YOU KNOW WHAT DIRTY PEOPLE GET FOR BEING DIRTY?!" He shoved his face in front of Pyle's making them touch noses for the second time that day. "THEY GET EIGHT WEEKS' KP AND A SCOLDING! YOU DIRTY, DIRTY PERSON! I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE THIS RIFLE DIRTY AGAIN! DO YOU UNDERSTAND, DIRTY PERSON?!"

Gomer looked down at the ground. "Yes, Sergeant. An' I…"

"NOT ANOTHER WORD, DIRTY PERSON. I DON'T WANNA HEAR YOUR VOICE AGAIN AND THAT'S AN ORDER!" Carter brusquely handed back Gomer's rifle and continued down the line.

Gomer hung his head in shame. He felt like crying. He couldn't seem to do anything right for Sergeant Carter anymore. He desperately wanted to show the sergeant what a fine Marine he was turning out to be. But he somehow found a way to mess up everything Sergeant Carter had depended on him to do correctly. First reveille, now the rifle… He suddenly brightened. At least he'd cleaned the barracks really well!

"Boyle, watch the platoon while I take an inspection of the living quarters." Carter murmured, heading over to the barracks.

Gomer's eyes widened. "Um…Sergeant?"

Carter whirled around. "WHAT DID I TELL YOU, DIRTY PERSON?! THERE YOU GO BREAKING ORDERS AGAIN! TEN WEEKS' KP DUTY!"

"But Sergeant Carter,"

"SHUT UP BEFORE I MAKE IT TWELVE, DIRTY PERSON!" Carter turned and stepped inside the barracks. But his foot slid out from under him on the slippery floor and he crashed down on his back. He moaned softly, feeling where he'd fallen on the threshold.

Corporal Boyle and Gomer came running over to the door.

"You all right, Sarge?" Boyle asked, quickly helping him to his feet.

Gomer shook his head. "That's what I was afraid of. I sure am sorry, Sergeant. I should of told you again that the floor was wet. It's all my fault an' I feel jus' terrible. Terrible, terrible, terrible! You know, you should really think about gettin' one of them yeller 'caution: floor is slippery when wet' signs. They'd be real helpful in preventin' somethin' like this. Don't you think that's a good idear, Sergeant?"

Carter's face darkened to red, then slowly turned a dark purple color. His whole body trembled in utter rage.

Gomer regarded him with surprise. "Why, Sergeant, your face is changin' colors. Are you sure you're all right, now?"

"PYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYLLLLE!"

-

Gomer slowly trudged into the barracks several hours later. He had to hurry over to the mess hall, since he had KP duty for the next three months. But he couldn't get himself to muster any energy. He'd been sent to the trenches for digging work the entire afternoon. Alone. It had only been a few minutes ago that Sergeant Carter had found his work satisfactory and sent him back to the barracks. He tiredly tried to brush off the dirt clinging to his uniform, but it only stirred up more dust, making him cough. At least he didn't have to shower to do KP duty. He was afraid of falling asleep under the hot water.

He slowly made his way over to his locker and leaned against it for a moment before opening it to put his shovel away.

"Why, Pyle!" Lester Hummel exclaimed, sitting up in his bunk. "You appear to have stepped out of a dust storm."

Gomer nodded wordlessly before sitting down on his bunk.

Corporal Boyle stuck his head inside the doorway. "Pyle. Visitor for you down at the rec room."

Gomer shrugged and slowly stood up again, shuffling toward the door.

"Hey. The Sarge wants you to make it quick. You got KP duty tonight." Boyle patted the boy's shoulder, feeling sorry for him. After all, it wasn't Pyle's fault that trouble seemed to follow him wherever he went.

Gomer barely acknowledged the gesture before setting off for the rec room.

Several minutes later, he slowly pulled the door to the rec room shut behind him. His eyes were half closed and clogged with dust. It wasn't until he heard the voice that he realized who his visitor was.

"Gomer, baby!"

"Lou Ann?" He croaked, coughing. He felt her arms go around his neck and leaned into her embrace in exhaustion.

"Oh, Gomer! I missed you! That's why I decided to come down here and see you! After all, you haven't come out to our place once since you've gotten back."

"That's cause I got guard duty all this week."

"Gomer, you sound terrible! Why are you so dirty?" Lou Ann reached up to dust off his cap, but only succeeded in stirring up more dust.

"I been diggin'." There was so much more he wanted to tell Lou Ann, but it was painful to force words past his parched, dust-lined throat.

"Cain you stay an' talk to me, at least?"

Gomer shook his head. "Got…KP."

"What a shame!" Lou Ann kissed his cheek and laid her head on his shoulder. "I never get to see you anymore."

Gomer felt terrible. He thought his heart was going to break. He'd already let down Sergeant Carter by not being able to do anything right anymore. Now, because of having to do all these extra assignments and duties, he'd let Lou Ann down, too.

"I'm sorry."

He was only able to just barely whisper the words in her ear, but the guilt-ridden emotion behind them struck a chord with Lou Ann. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Don't be. I'm not angry with you. I'll wait for you, Gomer!" She hugged him tightly, some of her tears spilling over and running down her cheeks.

Gomer cautiously reached up and brushed her tears away, smudging her cheeks with his thumb. "Don't cry, Lou Ann."

She looked up into his caring brown eyes. It pained him to see her so upset, yet he had no regard for himself whatsoever. Poor Gomer. He was blaming himself for everything that was going wrong. If only she knew how to make it up to him! "You'd better go, she whispered, sniffing. "I'll be okay."

Gomer nodded and turned to leave.

"Wait!" She pulled him back hastily. She held his chin as he wonderingly met her gaze. "Here's somethin' to wake you up." She leaned close and kissed his lips lovingly. She smiled as they broke off and Gomer was grinning, his eyes alight.

"Shazaam!" The word sounded almost pitiful coming from him, excitement blending into the hoarseness.

Lou Ann played with his shirt collar, tracing her finger over the single chevron on each fold. "Now, Gomer. I want you to be the very best Marine you cain be. I know you're wonderful. Now go give Sergeant Carter your hardest!"

"Right, Lou Ann!" He strode purposefully toward the door, pausing with his hand hovering over the knob. He turned back around to see his wife still standing where he'd left her. "I love you."

"Oh, Gomer!" Lou Ann laughed, her eyes sparkling. "I love you, too!"

He grinned and gave her a small wave in parting before heading over to the mess hall. Guilt was now the last thing on his mind. Lester was wrong. He didn't regret his decision for an instant. How wonderful it was to be married! And to his closest friend!

-

"No! N – O, NO!" Sergeant Carter yelled, pacing the floor of the duty hut in irritation.

"Come on, Sarge. You haven't tried it yet. And you know you need to get Pyle…"

"That's the last word I want to hear coming from your mouth!" Carter warned, shaking his fist as Boyle menacingly.

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on him, even for you?" Corporal Boyle admonished, smiling.

"Great. Now _you're _sticking up for him!" Carter gripped his head. "Stick your neck out for a guy while he's on leave and he rewards you by turning into the worst Marine imaginable!"

"I still say it'll work, Vince."

Gomer had happily approached the duty hut and was about to knock when he heard the raised voices coming from within. He paused, even though he knew he was eavesdropping, and that was wrong.

"I haven't even told him about it yet!"

That was Sergeant Carter's voice. Boy, he sure sounded frazzled!

Corporal Boyle answered him. "And you shouldn't. You know what Pyle's liable to do."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. He'll go ballistic on me!"

"So are you really gonna do it?"

"I danno. But Pyle's getting on my last nerve! I've had it up to _here _with him!"

"Sarge?"

It was quiet for a moment. Then Carter slowly broke the silence. "I have to do it. If I don't, I'll have let down the platoon, Colonel Grey, the Marines…"

Gomer heard noises coming from within and realized Carter had picked up the telephone. "Well, we might as well call the colonel and let him in on it."

Gomer turned away from the door, disheartened. Carter and Boyle were arranging for him to be transferred, he knew it. He was so awful that Sergeant Carter had lost total faith in him. He'd not only let down Lou Ann and Sergeant Carter, he'd let down the platoon, Colonel Grey, the entire Marine Corps…

He shook his head. He was an utter failure! He'd told his grandfather proudly only a little over a week ago that he'd made it as a Marine. What had happened to him since then?

_Maybe Lester was right, after all. Havin' a marriage an' bein' a Marine jus' don't go together. _He looked down at his dingy, dusty fatigues. He wasn't fit to wear this uniform! That was only for men of pride and virtue who took good care of the responsibility that was laid in their hands. He'd already proved to everyone around him that he was too dumb to uphold those values.

Gomer straightened up and stormed toward the barracks purposefully. He'd let down everyone important to him. He was just a failure. Come tomorrow morning, he'd desert. He'd go live in the woods like everyone else who wasn't loved did. After all, he'd seen 'Robinson Crusoe' five times at the movie theater in town. He could make it! And maybe, someday, when he wasn't a failure, he'd come back and prove himself! (He'd seen 'The Count of Monte Cristo' three times.)

_I'm sorry I let you down, Sergeant Carter. _Gomer thought determinedly. _You don't have to worry about me no more. Tomorrow mornin', you won't never have to see or hear me again!_


	5. Stepping Up

**Chapter 5**

_Stepping Up_

Gomer awoke before reveille the next morning. He quietly packed up his things and walked over to the duty hut. He wanted to say goodbye to his sergeant for one final time. He knocked softly, so as not to disturb anyone. "Sergeant Carter? Corporal Boyle?" When no answer came, he tentatively opened the door.

All was dark in the duty hut. Gomer carefully stepped between the two desks and back toward where Carter and Boyle kept their bunks.

He paused for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. He couldn't seem to see anyone. Suddenly, a feeling of dread crept over him. He couldn't see anyone because _there wasn't anyone there._

"Shazaam!" He hurried back to the phone on Sergeant Carter's desk and hurriedly picked up the receiver. "Hello, operator? Cain you get me the Colonel's office right away? Tell him it's real urgent…thank you kindly, ma'am." A hundred different terrifying scenarios ran through Gomer's head. Something terrible had happened to them, he knew it! And it was probably all his fault, just like everything else was.

"Hello? Who is this?" a voice on the phone rang out thinly. Even though its source sounded half-asleep, it still rang with authority.

"Colonel Grey? This is Private First Class Gomer Pyle from Company B, Section Two. An' somethin' terrible has jus' happened here! You see, I woke up this mornin' to talk to my sergeant, an' that's Sergeant Carter, by the way, in case you're wonderin'. But he ain't here! An' neither is Corporal Boyle! I called you jus' as soon as I could. Somethin' terrible has happened to them, I jus' know it! Colonel, you jus' gotta get a search party an' go out lookin' for 'em, right away!"

"Calm down, Pyle. I figured you'd be calling me. And let me assure you that Sergeant Carter and Corporal Boyle are safe and nothing's happened to them. The sergeant is on leave today. He put in for it last January and it's finally come up. As for Corporal Boyle, I have it on good authority that he checked into sick bay last night."

"That don't sound good. Did he come down with somethin'?" Gomer asked worriedly.

"The chicken pox. He'll recover, but it's extremely contagious. He didn't want it spreading amongst the men."

"Well, bless his heart. That sure is nice of him, but he didn't have to worry about me gettin' it. I already had the chicken pox. It was when I was eight years old an' I was stayin' with my Gran'ma Pyle. See, I got these spots an' she said I couldn't scratch 'em. But you know what? Them little spots really itch a lot. They jus' itch an' itch, an' you cain't help but wanna scratch 'em an' scratch 'em an'…"

"Pyle."

"Yes, sir. Anyway, my gran'ma she was real good with me when I had 'em. She fixed all my favorite meals an' put calamine lotion on all them itchy spots, an' she even gave me baths with oatmeal in 'em! But I'll tell you what really did the trick. My gran'ma done gave me my lucky troll doll an' you know what happened? Them spots jus' cleared up like magic! An' ever since, I've carried that lucky troll doll with me wherever I go."

"Pyle!"

"You think they sell troll dolls down at the PX? Cause if they do, then I'll be sure to stop by an' get one for Corporal Boyle. It'll help him get…"

"Pyle, he's in quarantine. No one's allowed back there except the nurses."

"Maybe I could leave it at the front desk an' one of them nurses could give it to him…"

"PYLE! I want you to listen to me now. Calling me when you realized your noncoms were missing was quick thinking and showed sound judgment. I want you to take over the platoon for today. I'm sure your sergeant left his plans for the day on his desk."

Gomer looked down and slowly picked up the clipboard lying on top of the desk. "Well, as a matter of fact, he did. But Colonel, I really don't think I cain."

"What makes you say that, Pyle?"

"I ain't been doin' my duties lately. I've been really terrible, jus' terrible! I cain't lead the platoon. You'd be better off jus' gettin' someone else."

"Pyle, I am ordering you to do this. Does a Marine private ever shirk his duties once they've been assigned? Does he ever disobey the command of his superior officers?"

"Oh, no, sir!" Gomer stammered his eyes wide.

"Then prove to me that you are a capable and responsible Marine who can follow his orders!"

"Yes, sir. But are you sure you don't want someone else?"

"Pyle, I am specially handing you this assignment. I won't be satisfied unless you handle this matter personally. Remember, Pyle, the Colonel is depending on you."

"Yes, sir. But…"

He was too late. Colonel Grey had already hung up the phone.

"Goll-ly." Gomer slowly put down the phone. He looked worriedly down at the clipboard he still held in his hand. He read the contents of the duty roster for the day and sadly shook his head. "This is some kettle of fish I done got myself into. I couldn't do this, even if I tried."

_Go ahead, Gomer. Go run away and let down the Marines and Colonel Grey and Sergeant Carter and everyone else depending on you.  
_Gomer jumped and looked about the room, startled. "Where'd that come from?"

_Think about it, Gomer. Do you really want to let Sergeant Carter down?_

Gomer shrugged. "Well…no."

_Then you know what you gotta do._

"You're right. I gotta. I jus' gotta! Ever'one's dependin' on me!" Gomer straightened and looked down at the list again. "You know, this don't look too bad when you really look at it. I think I _cain _do it! An' I will!" He hurried toward the door as he heard the bugle sound reveille. Just as he was about to run out, he paused and looked about the room once more. "An' thank you, little voice inside my head…whoever you are!"

-

Gomer stood outside in front of the men uncertainly. He'd led them through the roll call and morning exercises pretty easily. But now came the tough part. He had to get the men ready for a pre-breakfast hike. Perhaps it might be best if they knew why he was doing this.

He cautiously cleared his throat. "Um…fellers? I know you're all wonderin' why I'm steppin' in for Sergeant Carter. An' it ain't cause I'm gettin' all uppity-like or anythin'. You see, it's kinda like this…"

Only a couple hundred feet away, Sergeant Carter was watching Pyle and the men from behind a large bush. The kid was doing okay so far. Then again, he hadn't done much yet. Any goofball could get the platoon through roll call and morning exercises. He leaned forward to hear what Pyle was saying.

Suddenly, he grimaced as he saw who was coming down the row. Staff Sergeant Charlie Hacker from Company C. He just had to show up, didn't he? And he would probably foul everything up with Pyle. Sergeant Carter gritted his teeth. If that crooked man messed up his attempt to get Pyle promoted, he'd personally see to it that Hacker got demoted – to six feet underground!

"What's this, Pyle? Did Carter leave you in charge for a day?" Hacker stopped at the sight of the PFC addressing he men.

Gomer turned around. "Well, uh, no sir, Sergeant Hacker. That's jus' what I was tellin' the fellers here. I got my orders from Colonel Grey himself."

"Colonel Grey? Colonel Grey left you in charge of the platoon?" Hacker burst out laughing. "That's too rich. Colonel Grey leaving Pyle in charge! Pyle! Oh, that'll be the day!" He slowly moved off, still doubled over with laughter.

Carter made a move to step out and give Hacker a piece of his mind. Then he remembered Pyle. If that boy knew he was sitting here watching how he fared, he'd lose all confidence and then there'd be no way of promoting him to lance corporal. No, Carter must stay concealed.

"Well," Pyle turned back to the men. "You all gotta get ready for your hike now. An' I would hurry, too. The sooner we get back, the sooner we go to breakfast." Gomer straightened. "Platoon, dismissed!"

To his surprise, the men ran back into the barracks and began fixing their packs for the hike. He followed in after them to grab his helmet. Sergeant Carter never wore his pack when they went on hikes, so he guessed he didn't have to, either. Instead, he carefully put the Sergeant's whistle on around his neck. He looked down at the small, gleaming instrument and smiled. It made him think about Sergeant Carter. He resolved he would wear it proudly.

He hurried back outside and looked down at the whistle. He slowly raised it to his mouth and gave it a blow. "All right, fellers! We got to go now, come on!"

He grinned as the men ran out and fell into formation, fully dressed for the hike. It had worked! He'd gotten them to do something without messing it up!

"Ten hut!" He called, stiffening with pride as his comrades neatly snapped to attention. His confidence in his skills was growing exponentially by the second. "Right face!"

As they followed his command, he neatly performed a left face. He looked slowly over at the men and smiled as he realized they were all facing the same direction! He'd gotten it right again! His smile widened before he quickly straightened up. Sergeant Carter wouldn't approve of a smiling leader. Inwardly smiling, he stared straight ahead. "Forward march! Left…Left…" He called each time he brought his left heel down. "Left, two, three, and left!" His voice lacked the authoritive sing-song of Sergeant Carter's call, but his counts were right on time. Now, if he could just keep this up for the rest of the hike!

-

Corporal Boyle rested casually in one of the sick beds. He laid his head on his arms and closed his eyes. He could get used to days like these.

He looked up as he heard a tap on the glass visiting window. He waved at Colonel Grey and motioned to the phone by the bed.

Grey nodded and picked up the phone on his side of the glass.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Boyle gave the Colonel a mock salute.

Grey laughed and returned the salute. "At ease, Corporal. You shouldn't have to worry about things like that right now. After all, you're sick in bed with the chicken pox."

"Is that what you told Pyle?" Boyle grinned.

"Yes, and I had to talk him out of bringing you a troll doll as a get well present."

"A troll doll?" Boyle wrinkled his nose. "Wait. I'm sorry I asked. So how is my plan coming along?"

"Just fine, Corporal. They just returned from a ten mile morning hike. In fact, they posted the best time for that hike they've ever had. I could hardly believe it myself when I read it over at headquarters."

Boyle raised his eyebrows. "Wow. They're really going for the boy."

Grey nodded. "Even Sergeant Carter had to admit he's good at getting them to do things, in a non-demanding sort of way." He smiled. "Just watch, Corporal. We'll make a noncom out of that boy yet."

"I hope so, sir."

"Everyone's stuck to the plan so far. I have to congratulate you on extremely crafty tactics. It might not be long before you'll be a sergeant yourself at this rate."

"Thank you, sir."

"Remember, follow the plan through."

Corporal Boyle shrugged and lay back on his cot, smiling. "That's pretty easy for me, sir. All I've gotta do is lie around in sick bay all day. It's Sergeant Carter you'll have to worry about."

"Mmm. And keeping himself concealed from Pyle." A slight frown tugged at the corners of Grey's mouth. "I wonder what he's up to right now?"

-

_I'm dying I'm dying I'm dying, _Sergeant Carter thought miserably. Pyle had been doing so well and _now _he had to go mess everything up! He dug his fingers into the dirt in exasperation. How badly he wanted to jump out of his hiding place and set Pyle straight! But he couldn't. Then the whole operation would be ruined!

_That boy could never be a corporal! _He thought defeatedly as he helplessly watched Pyle foul up his chances for a promotion yet again.

The duty roster had called for the platoon to finish the trench work Pyle had been working on all week. Not only had Pyle gotten the men to start digging away the afternoon, he'd had the nerve to jump in there and start digging alongside them!

The only words Carter had been able to catch were "…feelin' jus' awful about standin' around-like.." and "Gung ho!" He smacked his forehead in frustration. Didn't Pyle understand that in order for everyone to work together they needed a leader? And _Pyle _was supposed to be their leader!

He turned away, too disgusted to watch. Well, that was that. At least he could now honestly tell the Colonel that he'd tried.

Suddenly, he brightened as he heard a familiar voice addressing the PFC.

"Gomer! What're you doing down there, buddy?"

Carter peered through the bush to see Pyle quickly scramble out of the trench to salute Corporal Slater.

Duke wrestled Gomer's arm back down to his side. "Don't fool around with that, right now! The important thing is, what are you doing down _there_?" He pointed at the trench sternly.

"Well, uh, sir, you see, the thing is, I know I shouldn't be here, but…it jus' don't feel right, standin' around an' watchin' ever'one else work."

"Don't you see, Gomer? That's the beauty of it all!" Duke grinned, then became serious again. "But now, for the record. Didn't you tell me at lunch that you were in charge of the platoon today?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Gomer, how could you?"

"Huh?"

Duke rolled his eyes. "Hasn't Sergeant Carter told you a thousand times?" He frowned and began to mimic the sergeant's voice. "The purpose of the platoon is for everyone to pull his own weight in order to achieve one objective together. If one man doesn't pull his weight, it drags the whole platoon down!"

Gomer grinned. "Goll-ly, Duke! I jus' love how you do them voices! You sound jus' like Sergeant Carter! I mean, sir," He murmured, quickly correcting himself.

Duke patted his friend's arm. "Don't worry about formalities, Gomer. We're buddies! Look, I promise not to put you on report. But Gome, you're pulling it as a leader! Don't wanna let down the platoon, do ya?"

"No," Gomer glanced over the men working diligently in the afternoon sun.

"Then watch over 'em. They need someone telling them where to go and what to do and how. Today, at least, that's you." Duke smiled and nodded. "I know you can do it."

He coughed and returned to his more aloof position. "Carry on, private."

Gomer saluted him and Duke returned it before walking away.

Carter quickly drew back, realizing that Duke was heading right his way. He held his breath as Slater walked right past him. If he said anything that gave him away, it was all over.

The corporal paused right next to him, giving the sergeant a conspiratorial wink before moving on.

-

Gomer wiped his brow as he walked up and down the row of men firing out onto the shooting range. Being the kind of person he was, he'd used his time at the trenches not just supervising, but making sure each man's canteen stayed full while they'd finished the work.

"Harry, you might wanna 'member to keep that lower arm stiff when you're firin'." Gomer walked up and down, noting carefully how well each man did his task. _Why, this ain't bad at all! _He smiled proudly. "An' Pete, be careful to keep your rifle straight from your shoulder out. Jus' kinda consider it like an extension of your arm."

Carter smiled at how easily Pyle was handling the situation. It wouldn't be a problem at all to promote him, now!

"Pyle! What do you think you're doing?"

Carter's eyes widened in horror. _No. it can't be! _He cautiously peeked around the bushes. It was. He fumed inwardly. Not Hacker! The guy probably already had an ace up his sleeve for poor, gullible Pyle. Carter pounded the ground with his fists in frustration. And everything had been going so well, too!

Gomer quickly saluted the sergeant. "Scuse me, Sergeant Hacker. The duty roster said for the platoon to have practice on the rifle range if they finished the trench detail early. So that's what I'm doin'."

"You did not report after breakfast, nor did you report after lunch." Hacker put his hands on his hips and frowned at the PFC. "Didn't Sergeant Carter tell you that you had KP duty for the next three months?"

"Yes, sir. But if you'll excuse me sir, this is jus' until Sergeant Carter gets back or Corporal Boyle gets better. You see, I got my orders special from the Colonel."

"The Colonel? When are you going to cut out that nonsense? You ain't pulling anything over on Charlie Hacker! No, sir! Now, come with me and we'll get you in that kitchen like you already were supposed to be, on the double!" Hacker tugged Pyle off after him.

Sergeant Carter rose from his crouching position. He'd tell Hacker where to get off and keep his sneaky nose in the kitchen where it belonged! Why, the little…he probably knew this was an exercise set up to get Pyle promoted and he was doing this just to flush Carter out and ruin the whole thing! He quickly sat back down, biting his lip. Well, he wouldn't give Hacker the pleasure of succeeding! But Pyle didn't have the brains or the guts to stand up to the sergeant! How was he ever going to solve this whole mess?

To his surprise, he heard Pyle speak up. "I'm real sorry, Sergeant Hacker. But I cain't jus' abandon the fellers like that. I got orders,"

"From the Colonel, I know, I know. You told me. And now I'm giving you new orders! Come on!"

"Sergeant Hacker, why don't you believe me?"

"You know, Pyle, I really wish I could. But the Colonel leaving you in charge of the platoon sounds a little fishy to me!" Hacker stopped and leaned close to whisper in Pyle's ear confidentially. "Besides, I got it on good authority that this is all a gag. And you're the patsy!"

Gomer's eyes widened. "Shame on you, Sergeant Hacker! Shame, shame, shame! Colonel Grey would never lie while he was on duty! I'm surprised at you, Sergeant Hacker! Accusin' the Colonel of lyin' like that!"

Hacker glanced around anxiously to make sure no nearby CO had overheard. "Don't be hasty, now. I-I never said that!"

"Maybe it warn't, but that's what you meant, though." Pyle raised his voice, a stern expression on his face. "Shame, shame, shame! I oughta report you myself!"

"No, no, no! Don't do that! Anything but that!" Hacker was by now visibly sweating with worry. "Uh…you're excused from KP tonight, Pyle. Yeah, yeah! That's just what I came over to tell you! In fact, I-I'm relieving you of KP until further notice!"

With that, the staff sergeant hurried away.

Carter was grinning like the cat that ate the canary. _Beat that, Hacker! _He suddenly stopped and thought about what had just transpired. He was finally forced to admit the truth. In his own way, _Pyle _had scared _Hacker _off! He suddenly had to cover his mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. Imagine that! Naïve, idiot Pyle turning the tables on Hacker!

Gomer stood there for a minute, watching the sergeant stalk off. He shrugged happily and turned back to the platoon. "All right, fellers. I guess that's good enough for today. We got to get back to the barracks now. There's an inspection we got to prepare for."

-

"At ease, Sergeant." Colonel Grey nodded to Carter and stood at his desk. "Tell me, how did you like the leadership skills Pyle displayed today? You do know that the platoon scored abnormally high on that inspection."

"Yes, sir."

"Shall I start filing Pyle's promotion at your recommendation, Sergeant?" Grey picked up a pen and pulled out some papers from a drawer within his desk.

"Not yet, sir."

Grey dropped his pen and leaned forward on his desk. "What do you mean to tell me, Sergeant? Pyle handles the platoon in an even more exemplary fashion for the whole day and you don't want him promoted yet?"

"I can explain, sir. Any goof with half a mind can carry out orders laid out for him during a standard day of training." Sergeant Carter raised his eyebrows. "Sir, with your permission, I'd like to find out if he can think like a lance corporal."

"Sergeant, let me see if I understand you correctly. You want this experiment to continue tomorrow…"

Carter nodded. "To see if he can lead the platoon under combat conditions."


	6. Chasing a Promotion

**Chapter 6**

_Chasing a Promotion_

Gomer finally relaxed as he opened his locker to get ready for bed. What a tiring day! He'd have never known that Sergeant Carter's and Corporal Boyle's jobs were so difficult! He fervently hoped that he wouldn't have to do this again!

As he slowly took off his shirt, he glanced sadly at the picture hanging up on his locker door. It was one of Lou Ann straddling a Columbiad 8-inch cannon at Fort Fisher. He remembered taking that photo, so long ago, on their honeymoon. How happy they were that day! He quickly looked away. It pained him to think about how lonely he was now. He hadn't gotten a single minute with Lou Ann since they'd gotten back, with the exception of her rec room visit. It was just before bed after days like this when he missed her most.

He sat down on bunk six, clad in his underwear. Well, there was nothing he could do to change the situation. He only hoped Lou Ann wasn't as miserable as he was. He slowly lay down on his bunk and closed his eyes, ready to sleep.

"Gomer."

He opened his eyes some time later to see Corporal Slater standing over him. "Duke? What are you doin' up here this late?"

"I just came from headquarters. Colonel Grey wants to see you. Immediately."

Gomer slowly sat up. "Goll-ly. I ain't even dressed. Tell him I'll be right there."

As Duke hurried away, he pushed himself off the bunk with a groan. He got up and opened his locker once again. As he took his shirt off the hanger and slowly buttoned it back on, he glanced once again at the picture. Lou Ann's words came back and smote him at that moment. _"I want you to be the very best Marine you cain be…"_

Gomer smiled. "I will, Lou Ann," he murmured. With her words in his head, he quickly redressed and hurried out of the barracks, pulling on his forage cap as he ran.

-

Gomer stifled a yawn as he stood at ease alongside the other platoon sergeants at Camp Henderson before the Colonel's desk. Colonel Grey had brought out some maps of the area and was droning on about some combat exercise or whatnot. Currently, he was handing out special assignments to each platoon. Gomer couldn't really concentrate on what the Colonel was saying. All he could think about was going to bed.

As Colonel Grey finished explaining to one of the sergeants about his assignment, he turned to the PFC. "Pyle, since Carter is on leave and Boyle is still in sick bay, you'll be in charge of your platoon. See this map," he gestured to the one laid out on his desk. Gomer opened his eyes a bit wider and looked at it in feigned interest. "You'll be receiving a copy of this map to study. Now, your assignment is going to be taking your platoon behind enemy lines here," he pointed to a location on the map, "to their arsenal here," he traced his finger over a line leading to a spot a bit farther back, "to recapture some stolen weaponry. It will be an important maneuver in determining a victory over our adversaries. Mind you, it'll be highly guarded. I see you look into it and determine what you think best in going about it."

"Yes, sir." Gomer nodded vigorously, fighting to stay awake.

"This mission is of the utmost importance, Pyle. I suggest you study the maps and strategize tonight."

"Yes, sir. You cain count on me, sir."

Colonel Grey nodded and moved on to another sergeant. For the rest of the meeting, Gomer was in a sleepy daze, not really paying attention to what anyone said. He barely discerned the Colonel dismissing them and the men trudging out of the office. He moved like a sleepwalker back to the barracks and laid down on his bunk tiredly, not even caring to undress.

_Thank goodness that's over, _Gomer thought as he peacefully drifted off to sleep.

Suddenly, he sat up, wide awake. "Combat maneuvers tomorrow?!"

-

Carter slowly aroused from his bunk and glanced at his watch. Four hundred and thirty five hours. Good. That gave him plenty of time to get dressed and go hide around back before Pyle could discover he'd been there.

He immaculately made his bunk in an exemplary handbook fashion and walked over to his locker. It had better be his fatigues today. He'd need to be camouflaged out in the wilderness where he could watch Pyle complete the combat maneuvers.

Wait. Something didn't seem right. A light was on near the front of the duty hut. Did Boyle forget something and sneak back for it this morning? He shook his head. He'd told Boyle to stay in sick bay for one more day! Boyle wasn't stupid enough to chance someone seeing him out here, especially a certain PFC Pyle.

He took a few more steps and peeked around the corner where his locker was situated. Someone was sitting at his desk! The figure was slumped forward over the desktop, sound asleep. Carter tiptoed over and peered down at the man's face, brushing away some of the figure's hair to get a better look.

He almost jumped back in revulsion. Pyle! What was _he _doing here? Carter glanced down to see what Pyle had been reading, but it was covered by his sleeping form. He cautiously lifted one of Pyle's arms to look at the paper he was sleeping on. It was a map of the area being used for combat maneuvers today. He smiled and gently replaced the PFC's arm on the table. He patted Pyle's head approvingly before tiptoeing over to his locker and quietly taking his fatigues out, sneaking away through the back door.

Gomer slowly awoke and looked around. He'd had the strangest dream that Sergeant Carter had come in the duty hut to check on how he was holding up. He'd been waving Pyle's arm around to wake him up, shouting at him that now was no time to sleep. He'd also had the strangest sensation that Carter had patted his head like a dog, praising him for making the effort to try to follow orders, even though he was going to fail anyway.

He quickly stood up and looked around to make sure he really was alone. He went back to check Boyle's and Carter's sleeping quarters, only to find them untouched as he had yesterday.

"Shazaam! I was gonna look over combat maneuvers!" He turned to glance at maps lying out on the desk. Just as he did, reveille sounded outside. "Too late for that now!" He quickly pushed his hair back and grabbed his forage cap, pulling it on as he ran outside.

"All right, fellers! I got somethin' real important to tell you! Come on!"

As the men fell into formation, Gomer quickly took care of roll call. "Now, fellers, we got to get ready to drive up for combat maneuvers today. You see, the Colonel gave us this special assignment, an'…" Gomer thought, trying to remember what else the Colonel had said. It would be easier to explain once he had the map in front of him to look at. "Well, I'll tell you when we get there." He looked over to see the truck coming their way. "You cain go get ready for combat maneuvers now." When no one moved, he thought a minute and grinned. "Oh, that's right." He quickly straightened. "Platoon, dismissed."

He hurried into the barracks after the men to grab his rifle and helmet. As he picked them up and hurried back outside, he frowned, deep in thought. _Am I forgettin' somethin'? _He shook his head and fastened his helmet snugly under his chin. He waved to the truck driver and gestured for the platoon to hop in.

_Idiot! Nitwit! Lamebrain! Knucklehead! _Carter thought in frustration. _He's forgetting his map!_

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching him, Carter sneaked back around behind the duty hut and entered through the back door. He ran up to his desk and grabbed the map, throwing it at the door in frustration. Then he turned and ran back outside, where the Colonel picked him up in one of the base's jeeps.

Gomer glanced at the open door of the duty hut and suddenly saw the map fly out, the breeze blowing it his way. He watched in amazement as it landed squarely at his feet. "I knew there was somethin' I was forgettin'. Ain't I lucky! If that wind hadn't done blowed it out the door, I'd have forgot it!" He happily picked it up and climbed into the back of the truck with the rest of the men.

The driver revved up and drove away. Soon, the living area of the base was left behind as the driver took them toward the middle of the wilderness region used for survival training on the base. From there, Gomer would have to take over as the platoon was left in the middle of a combat zone to fend for itself.

-

Shortly after the truck dropped them off, a lieutenant came by to rebrief Gomer on the rules and procedures of the exercise. First, he reminded him of the platoon's objective in the exercise, pointing out locations on the map that Gomer wisely chose to circle. He then reminded Gomer that referees would be stationed throughout the combat zone to make the final call on coming into contact with the enemy. The referee had the liberty to tag anyone he saw fit after an armed conflict as 'wounded' or 'killed.' If you were tagged 'wounded', you could not move and one of the men would have to be assigned to carry you back behind the front lines to practice first aid procedures. If you were tagged 'killed,' you stayed where you were. You would not be permitted to move or talk. All decisions made by the referee would be final. Anyone who disputed his call would automatically be tagged 'killed.'

"Thank you, sir! Bye now!" Gomer waved as the lieutenant moved off. Suddenly, he felt the gazes of all the men on him and his stomach dropped. Now was the true test. Here, he would either prove his worth or live up to being the most inept Marine ever to enlist.

Gomer gulped and looked down at his map. "Okay, fellers…well, uh…why don't you come on over here an' take a look at this here map?" He frowned. Wasn't it upside down? He began turning it every which way before, finally satisfied, he set it before the rest of the platoon.

"Okay." He paused to think about what the Colonel and lieutenant had told him before looking back down at the map. "I think this circle here's where we are right now.

We gotta go here, which is…oh, the enemy camp. An' then we gotta go all the way back here to where they got these stolen guns stored, an' take it over, I guess."

Hummel looked over Gomer's shoulder and frowned. "Uh…Pyle, I'm afraid you've placed this map upside down."

"What makes you think that, Lester?"

"Look at the compass rose placed in the, ahem, upper left hand corner." Hummel pointed. "According to this map, north is south and east is west!"

"What?" Pyle frowned in confusion. What Lester was trying to say was getting him all turned around!

"Here," Hummel turned the map one hundred and eighty degrees and gestured to it. "Does that look any more directionally correct?"

"Yeah!" Gomer brightened and pointed. "This circle's where we are, fellers! An' this is the enemy camp, an' this circle over here's where we got to go!"

"Excellent, Pyle." Hummel commented. The rest of the men nodded in agreement.

A few moments passed where no one said or did anything. Gomer coughed uneasily. "Well…what do I do now?"

Hummel shrugged. "How should we know? You are in charge here. We're simply awaiting orders."

"I wisht I was in your spot instead, Lester." Pyle looked down at the map sadly. What was he supposed to tell the men to do? He certainly didn't know. And he couldn't just let the Colonel down and let the platoon stand idle for the entire exercise. What was he going to do?

Nobody was going to help him figure it out. There was only one way to solve this problem. Gomer concentrated on the objective intensely, like he never had before. So they wanted to get through the enemy unnoticed and take back the stolen weaponry. Well, they could…

A memory clicked in Gomer's memory. "That's it!" He cried happily, turning to the men. "Fellers, I know jus' what we're gonna do now. An' it's all on account of Gran'ma Pyle! You see, when I was growin' up, me an' my cousin Goober, we used to sneak cookies from my gran'ma's cookie jar. The only problem was, my Gran'ma Pyle didn't like us snackin' like that. 'Eatin' in between meals spoils your appetite,' she always says. So when my gran'ma was sittin' in the livin' room knittin' in the afternoon like she usually did, Cousin Goober an' I would go outside an' make like we was playin'. Then we'd sneak around behind the house an' crawl in through the kitchen winder. We had to be real careful-like too, so Gran'ma Pyle wouldn't hear us. Had ears like a hawk, she did! So we jus' stayed as far away from her as we could. An' we'd grab big handfuls of cookies from her jar and then sneak back outside where we'd sit an' eat 'em under this big, shady oak tree." Gomer smiled at the memory, then he looked back at the platoon. "Do you kinda get what I'm sayin'?"

The men stared back at him blankly.

Gomer shook his head. "You prob'ly wouldn't understand. You see, when I was growin' up, me an' my cousin Goober used to sneak cookies from my Gran'ma Pyle's cookie jar…"

"Pyle, we heard the story once. It's highly unlikely that any of us will make any more sense of it the second time around. Please assign us our respective duties." Lester ventured boldly.

"Well, if you say so. Lester?"

"Yes, Pyle?"

"Why don't you go out an' scout out the enemy camp? You're very observive an' if they capture you, you're real good at tellin' nuthin' but your name, rank, an' serial number."

"But Pyle, I…I believe I have several other talents that can be best used elsewhere."

"You may feel that way, Lester. An' I ain't sayin' you're wrong. But as long as Colonel Grey assigned me to give orders, well…" Gomer squirmed bashfully under Hummel's intense gaze. "I gotta say you'd be a great scout. So that's what I'm tellin' you to do. Those are your orders, like you said you wanted 'em."

Lester nodded in defeat. "All right, Pyle. I'll scout out the enemy headquarters and return to report on my findings." With that, he moved off into the woods.

"Thank you, Lester!" Gomer waved to his friend and then turned back to his map. "All right, now. We'll wait till Lester gets back an' reports on how long this here enemy line stretches. Then we'll go ahead an' split into two groups. Frankie, I'm puttin' you in charge of the other group." He gestured to PFC Lombardi, who nodded in acknowledgement. "You'll take your group around the line at one end and I'll go down the other. We'll try an' scout 'em best we cain. Then we'll get real close to the arsenal an' we'll have them surrounded! It'll be real easy to take them there weapons an' capture the guards."

Frankie Lombardi came up and looked over Gomer's shoulder at the map. "Okay…" He pulled out his compass. "You want me to go north? I figure you'll be more at home taking the southern route."

Gomer began to nod, then stopped as his eyes widened at the sight of the compass. He pointed to it shakily. "Shazaam! I knew I'd done forgot somethin' else!" He turned around to the private standing behind him. "Joey, you think I cain borrow your compass?"

-

Gomer cautiously led his half of the platoon through the undergrowth a couple of hours later. He looked down at the compass, then back at the map where he'd had Lester mark the approximate start and end of the enemy defense lines. They were now walking south toward the targeted area. He turned around to check on how the men were faring. "Ever'thing all right, fellers?"

In front of him, a twig snapped a few hundred yards away. Gomer only heard it because he noticed the squirrels eating on the path had stopped at the sound before quickly scurrying away. He dove to the ground. "Hit the deck, fellers!"

Sure enough, just as the men followed his order, fire opened on the area.

Gomer cautiously raised his head off the ground to try to discern what direction the shots were coming from. He turned slowly to shout over his shoulder. "We'd best spread out now! Real fast! Come on!"

The platoon swiftly began moving away from each other in a low army crawl. Gomer moved toward the hidden enemies, stopping every few seconds to listen to the men mechanically return the fire. He remembered when Sergeant Carter was leading them through this same kind of situation on a different exercise. He was simply repeating the things his sergeant had said and done.

Sure enough, a hand grenade flew through the air and landed right where the platoon had once been, where it popped harmlessly with finality.

A referee stepped out of the brush and held up his hand, indicating a stop to the open fire. Gomer and the platoon hastily stood, as well as their enemies. He saluted the ref, who returned it with a smile.

"Excellent work, uh…" He leaned forward to discern the rank depicted on Pyle's fatigue collar.

"Private First Class Gomer Pyle, sir."

"Right. Private, you thought quickly and carried your men through that conflict with exemplary ease. You did very well."

"Well, you got to give the credit to my sergeant, sir. He's the one who taught me all I know."

"Be sure to thank him for me," the referee smiled. "I honestly have to say that, due to how quickly you men reacted to the situation, I can't tag any of you." He bent down to pick up the grenade. "Should this have been a legitimate live grenade, the blast would only have thrown dirt on your men, they were so well spread out."

Gomer smiled proudly as the referee made his way over to the enemy sergeant, who saluted him as well.

"Sergeant, as a result of this conflict, this man has been shot in the arm," he pinned a 'wounded' tag on one of the enemy privates close by. "And this man…and this man are dead." He pinned 'killed' tags on two more of the enemy privates. He nodded to the sergeant and Pyle. "Carry on."

It wasn't until Gomer had dropped back down and cautiously proceeded forward that he realized he'd just led the platoon through an armed conflict under combat conditions. He gulped. Sergeant Carter would be so proud when he found out! Biting his lip, he quickly turned his attention back to what lay ahead. The exercise wasn't over yet. He still had a long way to go.

_I jus' hope I don't let Sergeant Carter down, _he thought worriedly. _All it would take is jus' one more of them dumb things an' I'm done for!_

_-_

Two hours later, Gomer was leading the platoon cautiously over an open field, keeping as low to the ground and conspicuous as possible. The men followed behind him, spread out in a wide array to keep from the whole platoon falling victim to a surprise attack.

Gomer looked down at the ground as he covered it, proceeding slowly and carefully. Abruptly, his nose ran right into a booted foot. He looked up at its owner and smiled. "Why, Duke! Ain't this a pleasant surprise!"

"Quiet, Gomer. Want them to hear you? They've got this whole area surrounded. One wrong move…"

"Go-oll-ly! What're you doin' here?" Then Gomer's smile faded as he saw the tag pinned on his friend's fatigues. "Why, Duke…you done got killed."

"I know. Isn't it great?" Corporal Slater grinned mischievously. "This entire day is dedicated to combat maneuvers. A full day of duty for all of us. And I get to spend it laying around in a field! Boy, I'm working for that government paycheck now, aren't I?" He folded his arms behind his head and sat back, relaxed.

"But Duke… ain't there anythin' I cain do for you? You thirsty?" Gomer gestured to his canteen. "Or hungry? I still got half a bologna sandwich from lunch in my sock an'…"

"No, Gomer. Please. I really don't have the appetite for anything that comes out of your sock." He held up a hand and grinned. "Believe me, I'm just fine! Here, I'll give you a tip…"

"Duke, you ain't supposed to talk about things like that when you're dead! The rules says so!" Gomer hissed in an accusatory tone. "Why, you could get me killed if we got caught!"

"If that's the way you want it…" Duke shrugged and laid back down. "Ignore me and move along."

"But I cain't jus' leave you lyin' around like you warn't a human bein'. I'll get one of the fellers here to take you back an'…"

"Gomer. I'm dead, remember?"

Gomer's face fell. "All right, then. I'll be seein' you, Duke. Back at the base." He slowly began crawling past his friend, careful to keep very low to the ground of the open field. He turned around one last time. "When you ain't dead," he whispered.

"Gomer…" Duke cocked his head toward his friend to whisper lowly. "The arsenal is two miles east-southeast as the crow flies."

"Why, thanks, Duke!" Gomer grinned and nodded at the corporal. "Thank you kindly!"

"One more thing…" Duke glanced around furtively before continuing, "The enemy will get you if you even make a sound, but raise your hand if you want to hush a crowd."

Gomer nodded again, a look of confusion plainly etched across his face. "Thanks again, Duke…I think."

Later, when Gomer was halfway through the field, he mulled over Duke's parting words. _Raise my hand? What in tarnation could he have meant by that?_

He paused and looked down at his hand. He trusted Duke explicitly. His friend certainly didn't mean him any harm, and he felt that he was desperately trying to tell him something without running the risk of being flagged by one of the refs. _I believe you, Duke. _Slowly, Gomer raised his hand in the air.

He abruptly jerked it back down when enemy troops came charging out of the woods skirting the fields, firing across the range blindly.

Gomer lay as still and close to the ground as he could. Hopefully, they wouldn't find him hiding in the brush. He hardly even dared to breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought about being someplace else, hoping it would all be over soon.

Before he knew it, the ref was calling at the men to cease fire. He stopped and looked around. "Where is that man who raised his hand?"

Gomer hastily stood and saluted. "That was me, sir. I'm Private First Class Gomer Pyle."

The ref nodded in surprise. "Amazing tactics, Private. You not only flushed out the enemies, you got them within firing range of each other." He then turned and proceeded to hand out several 'wounded' and 'killed' tags to the enemy troops. He did not give one to Gomer.

Gomer stood watching it, smiling happily. Duke had been right! He knew he had been correct in listening to the corporal's well-given advice. And he had figured it out all by himself!

"Good work, Pyle. You've handled yourself and your men smartly through this combat zone. Keep up the exemplary job you're doing here."

Gomer smiled. "Yes, sir. An' thank you, sir. I sure do appreciate it."

"Don't thank me. The work has been all your doing." The ref returned his grin. "Carry on."

-

Gomer followed Duke's instruction once he and the men were on the other side of the field. He used the compass to determine which direction was east-southeast and slowly began moving that way. They had been traveling some twenty minutes when Gomer suddenly held out an arm, stopping them from moving any further.

"What is it, Pyle?" Hummel asked tentatively.

Gomer shook his head. "I don't rightly know, Lester. Somethin' jus' ain't sittin' well with me. Here, lookit there. You hear that?"

The men paused to listen. The dense wood was deathly quiet.

"The birds ain't singin'. An' that cain only mean two things. Either there's a storm comin' or there's people nearby."

"Well, what if it is going to storm?" Lebrowski looked up at the sky. "There's clouds gathering. And it's been awful hot all day."

Gomer looked up as well, shaking his head. "It ain't gonna storm any time soon. We'd have felt a breeze if it was." He tugged at his collar, which was drenched with sweat. It had been hot and sticky all day, without even the slightest whisper of a cool and refreshing breeze.

"What if the people they heard were us?" Hummel asked impatiently.

"I got a feelin' about this, fellers. Keep it low an' follow me, now." Gomer crouched defensively and cautiously proceeded through the brush, the muzzle of his rifle guiding the way. Shrugging helplessly, the rest of the men could not help but follow.

Gomer suddenly stopped as he saw the back of a man standing only a few yards away. His arms were hidden from view, so he couldn't see the man's red enemy armband. The thought didn't even cross his mind to wait to find out. He quietly gestured to the men to spread out while he stealthily crept up on the man.

He held his breath as he swiftly jabbed the rifle's muzzle into the private's back. "All right now, we got you surrounded. Surrender your arms an' we won't be givin' you no trouble."

The man's hands flew up as he slowly turned around. Both he and Gomer soon wore looks of astonishment in recognition of each other.

"Frankie!"

"Gomer! What are you doing here, scaring your own men half to death like that?"

"I didn't know it was you! But I'm sure glad it was, an' you know why? Cause now we's both back together to get them stolen guns back an' didn't have to take any prisoners. I don't really like doin' that, it feels real mean an' all." Gomer smiled happily. "How've you been doin'?"

Lombardi straightened up proudly. "I didn't lose a single man, Gome, though we engaged with the enemy three times. I hope I've proved trustworthy of the command you've given me!"

"Why, ain't that wonderful! Bless your heart," Gomer turned around and motioned to the rest of the men to come up. "I sure been lucky today, cause I ain't lost no one yet, neither." He looked down at his compass. "Wait. Warn't you going to the arsenal? Cause it's right in the direction you jus' come from."

Lombardi looked over his shoulder and shook his head, pointing. "Gomer, you were following due east, which is that way. You want to go east-southeast, which is this way." He pointed directly in front of him.

"Well, go-oll-ly. I done got lucky again!" Gomer exclaimed. "If I hadn't met up with you, I'd have done gone in the wrong direction! I never was real good at readin' these here directions. They's jus' too many of them. All these different easts an' wests an' norths' an' souths an', well, now I'm gettin' confused. But thanks anyway, Frankie! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Uh, shouldn't we get going?" Frankie gestured in front of them and Gomer hastily nodded. The whole platoon trudged forward together with Gomer and Lombardi leading the way.

-

Slowly, Gomer made his way up through the brush and stopped, his ears listening acutely for any noise around him. The arsenal was in sight. He could see the guard's red enemy armband directly below him. The whole platoon was spread out around the area. They had the guards surrounded.

He watched as the guard sat down, his back to Gomer. He casually leaned back and began snacking on what looked like an apple. He didn't seem very interested in guarding the arsenal. This might be easier than Gomer had originally thought!

He cautiously crept closer to the guard, looking down at the ground to make sure he made no noise with each step. The guard was closer now. Gomer kept a grin from surfacing. He was almost there! He'd practically done it! But not yet, there was still time to mess up. Must be very careful. Concentrate…

Swiftly, he came up and lightly touched the guard with the muzzle of his rifle. "All right, now. I know you's the enemy this time. Surrender what rightly belongs to us an' we'll be on our way. We don't want no trouble now. So I'd suggest you do as I say."

The guard slowly turned around. Gomer's jaw dropped. "Why, Sergeant Carter!"

"About time you showed up, Pyle. What took you so long?" Carter nonchalantly took another bite of his apple. He didn't seem the least bit surprised to see Gomer.

"But Sergeant Carter, I…I don't understand. I thought you was on leave."

The sergeant grinned widely at Pyle. "Surprise, surprise, surprise!"

"You mean…you didn't go away at all? That Sergeant Hacker was right?"

"What are you talking about, Pyle? Has Sergeant Hacker been filling your head with more nonsense while I was gone?"

"Uh, Gomer…" PFC Hummel came around the corner of the arsenal, leading two more men dressed in fatigues with red enemy armbands. "What sort of shenanigans do you believe to be at work here?"

Gomer turned to look at the enemy guards and gasped. "Colonel Grey? Corporal Boyle? What…"

"Congratulations, Pyle." Colonel Grey took Gomer's hand and shook it heartily. "The reports I heard from the refs were excellent!"

"What's going on here? Corporal Boyle, I thought you was sick."

Boyle shrugged. "Guess you'll have to find out sooner or later. I was never sick. In fact, the whole thing was my idea."

"To be honest, I didn't think you could do it. I have to tell you, Pyle, you surprise me with what you can do when Boyle and I aren't around." Carter clapped Gomer on the back.

"Is that what…? An' you thought…?" Gomer pointed from one man to another, tangling himself up as he did so. "Cain someone please explain all this from the beginnin'?"

Colonel Grey stepped forward. "It's a long story, Pyle. Let me just tell you that Sergeant Carter and I are both more than ready to approve your promotion."

"Promotion? I thought I was bein' transferred." Gomer looked from Grey to Carter incredulously.

"Where'd you ever get a ridiculous idea like that?" Carter laughed and looked around. "You did better than I expected, Pyle. I'm surprised to see so many of the men here."

"I'll have you know, Sergeant, that Pyle successfully completed his mission without losing a single man. If I recall correctly, Sergeant, you lost every man but one when you completed a similar task during combat maneuvers when you were training to become a corporal." Grey gazed severely at Carter.

"That's right, sir." Carter laughed nervously, but it tittered away as he realized he was the only one sharing in the humor.

Boyle turned and smiled at Gomer. "You've done real well, Pyle. Congrats on making it to lance corporal."

Gomer brightened in amazement. "Lance corporal? Shazaam!"


	7. Fatherly Love

**Chapter 7**

_Fatherly Love_

A knock on the door sounded as Lou Ann turned off her stove. "Comin'!" She called, weaving her way through various moving boxes that still decorated her new apartment. It was closer to the Marine base and contained one more bedroom than her old one. Its rooms were also a bit airier, making the pad seem more spacious than it really was. It was obvious that the apartment house wasn't young, as the layout and architecture held the Frank Lloyd-Wright design that had been so popular back in the 1950s. In the two weeks of living here since returning from her honeymoon, Lou Ann had hardly unpacked a thing save the furniture.

She eventually escaped the maze of boxes and opened the door. "Why, Gomer!" She cried happily. "Welcome home!"

"These are for you, Lou Ann." Gomer grinned and handed her a tiny bouquet of colorful, handpicked flowers.

"Oh, they're lovely! They'll go on the coffee table, once I get it uncovered." She turned to go find a vase for the flowers, then noticed Gomer was still standing in the hallway. "Well, come on in. This is your place now, too, you know."

"Oh, right." Gomer shrugged and hastily stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He opened his mouth to say something as he turned around, but he was greeted with a barrage of boxes. "Lou Ann?" He called, trying to peer around them. His wife had already disappeared into the confusing labyrinth.

"Over here, Gomer!"

If he stood on tiptoe, he could just see her small hand waving above a stack of boxes over on the other side of the room. "Lou Ann, how'd you get all the way over there?"

Her hand disappeared and in a few moments she was standing beside him once again. "You gotta use a special path, Gomer. You know how utterly helpless I am. Actually, I was kinda hopin' you'd help me move these things to the spare bedroom. That is, until I get 'em all unpacked. You're so much stronger than I am, anyway. Won't you be the gentlemen an' help me out?" She batted her eyelashes coquettishly.

"Why, sure, Lou Ann! That sounds like a lot of fun! Besides, it don't really matter what we do, so long as we do it together." Gomer smiled eagerly. "I ain't seen you in so long. It'll be nice jus' talkin' together again. You know what? I've really missed you."

"Actually, I've really missed you, too." Lou Ann put her arms around Gomer and kissed his cheek. "More than you know," she whispered quietly to herself.

Gomer leaned into her embrace for a moment, reveling in the feeling. The two weeks they'd been apart had seemed like an eternity. He wasn't quite sure why it was that way. They'd been separated for longer stretches than that before. Something was different. It was like the two now depended on communication and time together as essential to their very existence.

He craned his head and smiled at the boxes surrounding them. "Well, I guess we'd better go ahead an' get started." He grabbed the nearest one and gestured to his wife. "Lead the way, Lou Ann! I don't know where the spare bedroom is. Fact, I ain't never even seen our new home yet. Now, while we's puttin' these here boxes up, you cain tell me all about it! Like where all the creaky floorboards are, an' whether the cabinet hinges are rusted, an' if we get good water pressure in the shower, all them things what make a house a home. An' then it'll be my turn! You jus' wouldn't never believe it, I got so much to tell you!…"

-

Two hours later, Lou Ann hurried into the kitchen to reheat dinner while Gomer sat down on the now unearthed sofa. He relaxed and lay back, wiping his brow. Lifting the boxes and talking with Lou Ann had been fun, but he just didn't seem to have the unbounded energy he once had for such tasks anymore. He was simply wore out. Maybe he was getting old.

Shuddering at the idea, he turned his thoughts elsewhere. He hadn't even told Lou Ann his biggest news yet. He'd wanted to take her out for a celebratory dinner to tell her, but she'd insisted on cooking a meal for their first time together in their new home. He looked around the practically barren living room. This was as good a place as any. It would have to do.

"Sorry about the food growin' cold. You cain come on out. It's ready now." Lou Ann walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. "Aren't you hungry?"

"I'm sorry, Lou Ann. But I'd kinda like to jus' sit here a minute. You cain come join me if you want to. But you don't got to if you don't want to."

She shrugged. "Sure I want to, if you want to." She sat down on the couch beside him. "What is it, Gomer? Somethin' you got to tell me that cain't wait?"

"Exactly." He smiled down at her. Sometimes it seemed she knew his own mind better than he knew it himself. "Well…uh…don't you notice somethin' dif'rent about me?"

"Not especially." Lou Ann placed a hand on his head. "Did you get a haircut?"

Gomer grinned, shaking his head. "Guess again."

Lou Ann thought a minute, then snapped her fingers excitedly. "You went to the dentist an' he gave you a gold cap!"

Gomer laughed. "That ain't it, neither."

Lou Ann closed her eyes and placed her head on Gomer's shoulder, inhaling deeply. "You're wearin' a new cologne?"

"Nope."

Lou Ann looked up at him in confusion. "I give up. What is it?"

Gomer proudly pointed to his sleeve. There, underneath the single chevron, was a pair of crossed rifles.

Lou Ann drew in her breath sharply. "Oh, Gomer! That's wonderful!"

"Ain't it, though?" Gomer grinned from ear to ear. "I'm Lance Corporal Gomer Pyle now!"

"Gomer, how exciting!" Lou Ann cried.

"Didn't even see it comin', neither. I'm on the E-3's payroll now, an' it's a whole step higher, all right. It's halfway between a PFC an' a corporal." Gomer stated importantly.

"Now I know why you couldn't get away for so long!" Lou Ann's face shone radiantly. "What a wonderful surprise! Sergeant Carter's an awful nice person to do you such a good turn. Now, how on earth did he go about promotin' you?"

"Well, you see…" Gomer wrung his hands and sighed. "Well, I guess I better not say. The thing is, Lou Ann, I ain't allowed to discuss military matters with or around civilians. It's Sergeant Carter's rules."

"That's all right, Gomer. I like it better if you don't tell me, anyway. After all, it's your duty as a man of the service." She tapped his khaki uniform playfully. "I wouldn't expect any less from you." She gently kissed him once before leaning against him happily.

"Goll-ly," He murmured softly, awed by her devotion. Lou Ann understood him completely. She didn't even vie to compete with the Marine Corps for his attention or affections. She knew that it was a loyalty to a nation before a loyalty to an individual. Duty came before desire. _Que, sirrah, sirrah…_

"Lou Ann? Did I ever tell you that you was the best friend I ever had?"

She smiled. "Well, maybe. But it never hurts for you to say it again."

-

Colonel Grey stood and frowned at the papers he held in his hands. He turned back to Carter, who was standing before him. "Now, don't get me wrong, Sergeant. You've done an excellent job in getting all of your men promoted accordingly. The extent of your efforts hardly escapes my attention. However, I've come across quite a troubling letter from the Pentagon in Washington…"

Carter's stomach dropped and the color drained from his face. His hand subconsciously reached up to touch his stripes. It was all over now. The day he had so dreaded had finally arrived. What had he done, oh, _what _had he done to deserve this?! He could already hear the Colonel's voice addressing him. _"Good morning, _Private _Carter,"_ He gulped, trying to still the trembling of his hands. "Sir?"

"The draft is pulling more and more men from various Marine bases for deployment." Grey handed him the list solemnly.

Carter looked down at it in confusion. "Sir? I'm over the age of thirty-five. I thought I was exempted from the draft."

"You are, Sergeant. It isn't you who's being requested for deployment. It's some of your men."

Carter cautiously scanned the list of names and searched it for one. Sure enough, midway through the list, there it was:

'PYLE, Gomer. LCpl.'

Carter's hands slowly fell to his sides. There it finally was, in black and white. Pyle was going to be transferred out of the country at Washington's orders, and Carter was helpless to stop it. It was what he had always wanted. He should be happy…shouldn't he?

"Sergeant."

The Colonel's stern voice snapped Carter out of his reverie. "Yes, sir?"

"Make sure the men receive their orders and report for deployment next Wednesday."

"Yes, sir." Sergeant Carter saluted the Colonel and turned to exit the office.

Grey shook his head as soon as the sergeant had left. If he figured correctly, the sergeant would have a lot of sorting out to do before he gave Pyle his orders.

-

Carter held his head, trying to concentrate on his paperwork but his mind kept straying. The words on his documents blurred before his eyes. He turned on his desk lamp. It didn't help. He snorted in frustration and grabbed his glasses, pushing them up his nose distractedly.

"Something wrong, Sarge?"

"Shut up, Boyle!"

The Corporal shrugged and returned to the papers lying on his own desk.

Carter looked down at the file on his desk. He was annoyed to find it was Pyle's. He quickly opened it up and scanned through the lance corporal's neat, impeccable service record. Of _course_ the government would pull up a guy with a record like this and ship him over to Vietnam!

He paused to think on another track for a second. Why should he be so upset over it? Pyle was going to be halfway around the world, bugging someone else, getting under someone else's skin or in some other sergeant's hair. He wouldn't have to worry about the troublesome Marine anymore.

His complexion darkened as he thought about Pyle being someone else's problem. He'd had the boy since boot camp! He'd taught him everything he knew! If Pyle was going to get into anyone's hair or under anyone's skin, it ought to be _his!_

He unconsciously pounded the desk with his fist, causing Boyle to look over at him sharply.

Carter turned to meet his gaze, disgruntled. "Well, what are you looking at? Get back to work and quit staring!"

Boyle shook his head, resuming his desk work.

Just as Carter was about to do the same, a movement at the corner of his eye stopped him. He'd ordered the platoon to police the area and Pyle had been assigned the window detail. He was working on the window that looked right into the duty hut. As Sergeant Carter met his gaze, he smiled and waved.

Carter frowned and quickly waved him back to his work. Then he looked back down at the file lying on his desk.

Pyle's passport had been issued to him when he'd enlisted in the Marines five years ago. It was good for ten years so it wouldn't have to be renewed. Carter slowly flipped through the blank pages. Pyle had never had to use it before. Well, he'd be needing it now…

Other papers included in the file were Pyle's physical examination, medical record, reports, various test results, a full description as well as all personal information, and issue number of all his belongings. At the very back of the file was an insurance policy. Carter slowly picked it up. He had been the one to suggest Pyle take it out as 'stupid insurance.' He had to admit that when Pyle had fallen off the roof and nearly got himself killed, he had been quick to blow up at him and rattle off suggestions he hadn't really meant. He definitely hadn't counted on Pyle naming him as beneficiary in case of accidental death. He slowly put it down. He'd have to show it to the boy so he could get it changed. Lou Ann should be the first beneficiary now, not him.

He slowly shuffled the papers and neatly set them back inside the folder. He picked up Pyle's transfer papers and slowly laid them on top. The line that required his signature, consigning Pyle over to Sergeant Brooks of division 6, South Vietnam, was still blank. He picked up a pen to sign the paper, but one look at Pyle scrubbing at the windows caused him to put it back down again. Why was this so hard? He picked his pen back up in irritation, but when he tried to sign again, his hand froze. With a cry of disgust, he threw the pen across the room.

"This may be none of my business, but…you wanna talk, Sarge? Something's bothering you, you can't hide that from me."

Sergeant Carter slowly turned to Corporal Boyle. He started to open his mouth, then shook his head, sighing. "Not here."

"Jim's Bar, then. I'll foot the bill."

Carter stared at him for a minute before speaking, his voice quiet and deliberate. "Boyle…why are you so nice to me?" He stood shakily, his voice rising. "WHY IS EVERYONE SO NICE TO ME?!"

Gomer paused at the door on hearing his cry. He poked his head through the doorway. "Sergeant Carter, sir?"

Carter frowned and jabbed with his finger angrily. "GO AWAY, PYLE!"

"But Sergeant Carter, I was jus' goin' to say that you're a real nice person an'…"

"GO! OUT OUT OUT OUT OUT!" He ran up to the door, pointing, causing Gomer to turn tail and run for the barracks.

Carter slumped against the doorway, emotionally spent. He massaged his temple with his fingers tiredly, groaning softly.

"Sarge? How about we go now? I'll get one of the other men to take over the duty roster."

Carter opened his mouth to protest, but realized he didn't have the energy to yell. He closed his eyes, nodding in defeat. "Maybe that would be best."

Boyle nodded and called out the door. "Hey, Pyle! Come here a minute!"

"No!" Carter snapped.

Boyle regarded him quizzically. "Why not? Pyle's as good as any of them. You saw what he did in that training exercise."

"NOT PYLE, NOT PYLE! _ANYONE _BUT PYLE!" Carter's eyes widened frantically.

It was too late. Pyle had already stepped inside, hat in hand. "You wanna see me, Corporal Boyle?"

"Yeah." Boyle threw a look over his shoulder at Sergeant Carter, who had disappeared behind the lockers to lie on his bunk. "I want you to take over supervision of the duty roster for the rest of the day."

"Well, sure. If you really want me to. But…" Gomer tried looking back at where Sergeant Carter was lying down. "Is Sergeant Carter not feelin' too well?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead and take him home."

"Well, bless your heart. That's awful thoughtful of you, Corporal Boyle. I'm sure Sergeant Carter will appreciate it." Gomer looked around before leaning close confidentially. "You might wanna try my Gran'ma Pyle's secret. She always put a spoonful of cinnamon in with coffee or hot chocolate. It cures jus' about ever' sort of headache an' tummyache!"

Carter winced, hearing every word of the conversation. But it didn't seem to have any impact on his head or his stomach. All of Pyle's words were pressing down hard on his heart.

"Sure." Boyle nodded and sent Pyle back to the barracks, duty roster in hand. He turned and slowly walked back to Carter's bunk, his hands on his hips. "Why do I get the suspicion this has something to do with Pyle?"

Carter grimaced. "It can't wait." He drew in a deep breath, the problem escaping his mouth in a rush. "Pyle's being deployed to Vietnam. Colonel Grey got the notice straight from the Pentagon this morning." There. It was finally out. He leaned back, his shoulders slumping dejectedly.

"I see." Boyle sat down beside Carter. "So obviously, this is out of your control. You get rid of him _and _it doesn't have to be your fault. There's no way the blame can fall back on you. He leaves this platoon, this base, once and for all, and you get off looking like the good sergeant. What's so wrong about that? It's what you've always wanted."

"I thought I did." Carter gave the Boyle a small smile. He knew the corporal was playing devil's advocate with him. How many times had he said or thought those same things himself? Too many times. He hastily stood and began pacing the quarters. "But that's the problem! I don't _feel _like the good sergeant! How can anyone feel good about sending someone as stupid as Pyle over there to his death?"

"He might hold up better than you expect. You made it through Korea all right, didn't you?"

"Do you notice how I hardly talk about it? Korea was terrible, Boyle, terrible! It was practically a nightmare, it was so unreal! Why, I barely made it out of there with my hide intact! And I'm a much quicker thinker than Pyle!"

He abruptly sat down again, twisting his hands in his lap anxiously. "I know what war is like, Boyle. And they're saying Vietnam's the worst one yet. Thousands of Marines are dying every day in that tropical wasteland! Here," He rummaged around in his locker before pulling out an old and yellowed newspaper with dog-eared corners. He handed it to Boyle, who scanned the heading. The date read January 5th, 1968. "Remember the Tet Offensive? Huh? How can I willingly send one of my boys over into that mess? Especially someone like Pyle!"

"I thought Nixon was calling for 'Vietnamization.'" Boyle raised his eyebrows, handing the paper back to Carter. "They should be withdrawing the number of troops over there, not increasing them."

"They're not increasing them," Carter mumbled dismally. "They only need so many more to replenish their already diminished battalions!"

"I can see where you're coming from, Sarge. But what can you do about it? Anything coming out of Headquarters in Washington's final." Boyle spread his hands out in front of him helplessly.

"I know, I know! I know I got to do it! It doesn't necessarily mean I want to…I – I just don't think I can face him!"

"But Sarge, you have to! When does he gotta report?"

"In four days," Carter replied.

"Then you'd better tell him fast! Four days isn't hardly enough time to get ready for Vietnam."

"Never to return," Carter added, a faraway note in his voice. "Then I'll be the bearer of bad news when the letter arrives on my desk beginning, 'We regret to inform you'…"

"It's a possibility you're going to have to own up to. Mind," Boyle quickly held up a hand, "it's not necessarily going to happen."

"What are you talking about? _Of course _it's going to happen! Pyle can hardly do what he's told to save his life, much less think for himself!" Carter retorted.

"Remember the combat exercises? Pyle not only came out alive, he completed his mission _and _failed to lose a single man."

Carter only grunted in reply. "I still don't think he ought to go. He's always had me to watch over him, ever since he was a fresh recruit! I'm practically a father to him!"

Once the words were out, Carter froze, paling in mortification. Did he actually just say that? Did he really and truly feel paternally for the simple-minded Marine? Sure, he could be dumb, but he always tried hard to please…and he would do anything for Sergeant Carter. He always seemed to bring out the best in his seasoned sergeant. Recalling various memories from the past five years, he slowly smiled. After what all he and Pyle had been through, how could he feel like anything less than a father to him?

He was snapped out of his daze by Boyle clapping him on the shoulder. "Well, I guess Pyle's just going to have to make it on his own this time."

Sergeant Carter slowly turned to stare at him, nodding.

Boyle returned his gaze with a smile. "I know, Sarge. I've known it all along. You're a good guy."

As he started for the door, he nodded to another figure standing by the sergeant's desk. "Looks like now you'll get your chance."

Gomer had come back into the office for something, politely trying to locate it on the sergeant's desk without moving too much around. He looked up, startled, on hearing voices from the back of the hut. "Oh, hey, Sergeant. Hey, Corporal Boyle. I thought you two had done left already."

"Pyle, the Sarge has got something to say to you." Boyle gestured importantly before exiting through the front door.

Carter was about to protest when he caught Pyle's imploring gaze. He swallowed hard. This wasn't going to be easy, but he had to do it now. There was no getting around it.

"What is it, Sergeant Carter? Did I do somethin' wrong again?"

"No, Pyle. It's…it's a bit more serious than that." Carter sighed and sat down at his desk. "You do understand that orders are orders? A man must be expected to go where his country demands his services?"

"Well, yes, sir. I understand, all right. Sergeant Carter…what's this all about? Am I bein'…transferred?" Gomer gulped nervously.

"Not transferred, Pyle. Deployed. The orders came from Washington this morning. Henceforth, your services are required in Vietnam."

"Vietnaam?" Gomer asked slowly. "Ain't there a war over there?"

"Not exactly a war, per se. More like an armed conflict. And the government wants you a part of it."

"Shazaam!" Gomer frowned in confusion. "Sergeant Carter…cain I ask you a question?"

"What's that, Pyle?"

"Where is Vietnaam?"

Carter pulled his world map out of his desk drawer and unrolled it on the desk. "Let's just say this. You are here," he pointed to the state of California. "and you're going all the way over here." His finger traced the map to the opposite side, where it rested on a single thin Indochinese country. "This is Vietnam."

"All the way on the other side of the world?" Gomer asked in despair.

"I'm afraid so." Carter murmured.

"Well, go-oll-ly." Gomer said quietly. "Are you goin' too, Sergeant Carter?"

"No, Pyle. I'm not. I'm exempted from the draft."

"But Sergeant Carter, I…I'll only go if you go. I wouldn't know what to do without you."

Carter suppressed a groan. This was what he'd been afraid of. "Pyle, you have to understand that this is out of my control. You don't contest the Pentagon!"

"But Sergeant Carter, I…I jus' don't think I cain." Gomer sighed heavily.

"Pyle, I don't have a choice. You hear me? I DON'T HAVE A CHOICE!" Carter threw open the file still lying on his desk and signed the paper on top with a flourish. "There. I've just signed you over to Sergeant Brooks in South Vietnam. I am no longer your sergeant."

"But Sergeant Carter," Gomer's voice sounded dangerously near breaking. Tears glistened in his large brown eyes. "I couldn't do anythin' without you. You're my sergeant. I wouldn't even think of servin' under anyone else."

Carter came around from behind his desk, standing next to Gomer. "Pyle, didn't you say back when you joined the Marines that your father once told you that you would be tested and you'd have to make it on your own without any help from him?"

"Uh-huh." Gomer shrugged.

"Consider this your new test. You're just going to have to make this one on your own, without me." Carter concluded solemnly.

"Sergeant Carter…is this goodbye?"

"Pyle, your plane leaves in four days." Carter swiftly turned away, trying to fight off the barrage of emotion he felt. He couldn't have Pyle seeing him in such a state.

"Sergeant…I jus' wanna say that I'll never forget that time when I twisted my ankle on that hike an' you carried me five miles all the way back to the base. Or when you took care of me when I was sick. Or…"

"Goodbye, Pyle." Carter forced the words tightly through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant Carter." Gomer shrugged ruefully. "I guess what I'm jus' tryin' to say is, you'll always be top sergeant as far as I'm concerned. No matter where I'm at. An' I'll make you proud!" He looked sadly at the ground. "I've always tried makin' you proud."

Carter hung his head and slowly turned back around to face him. "You have, Pyle. Good luck to you."

"I promise to write, an' visit when I'm on leave, an'…Goll-ly, Sergeant Carter. I'm gonna miss you."

"Pyle, get a hold of yourself. Marines don't cry!" Carter admonished sternly.

"You'll always be my sergeant, Sergeant Carter. No matter who my real sergeant is. You've cared for me like you was my own daddy!" Gomer held his cap tightly in his hands, his voice wavering. "An' I think…that you're the best Marine what ever lived."

Carter studied him in astonishment. "Pyle, do you mean that?"

"Goll-ly, Sergeant. You know I never say anythin' without truly meanin' it." A smile slowly spread across Gomer's face.

"You'd best go prepare for deployment, Pyle. Come back and visit Camp Henderson any time. And, uh, you're always welcome in my platoon." Carter added hastily, smiling.

Gomer sniffed. "Well, since you hate sayin' goodbye like you do, I jus' ain't gonna say it." He slowly started for the door.

"Sayonara," Carter murmured.

"Gomer turned back around. "What you say, Sergeant?"

"Sayonara. It's Japanese for, 'until we meet again.'"

"Well, ain't that somethin'." Gomer said quietly, grinning. "Sayonara, Sergeant Carter." With that, he turned and left for the barracks.

"Nice knowing you, Pyle." Carter breathed to himself. He didn't know what was up with him. He'd always tried to shake the kid because of all the trouble he got into. So why was it now, when he was finally rid of him, that he felt so hollow inside?


	8. Catch 22

**Chapter 8**

_Catch-22_

Lou Ann smiled, checking herself in the mirror one final time as a knock on the door sounded. Gomer was home! He'd called earlier to tell her he had the night off. He was, in fact, even able to stay overnight. Such nights were few and far between. She had been looking forward to it all day.

She hurried to the door and threw it open. There, standing in the hallway, was her husband. He had a subdued expression on his face, which almost stopped her in her tracks.

"Gomer, aren't you glad to be home?" Lou Ann asked gently, pulling him inside.

"Well, I jus' won't be home for long, an' that's what I'm afraid of." Gomer removed his hat and tried to smile down at her cheerfully. What he had to say was going to break her heart!

"Well, of course not! You have to go back to the base tomorrow. I don't mind, darlin'. I'm jus' happy you cain be here tonight." There was a glow to Lou Ann's countenance as she fussily removed his tie.

"These are for you," He handed her the flowers he'd almost forgotten about.

"Black orchids! Oh, they're lovely!" Lou Ann exclaimed. She turned and carefully set them in a bright yellow vase that deeply contrasted their morbid color. "I ought to show you the new guest room! The last time you were here, we filled it up with all them boxes. Well, Bunny came over an' helped me unpack a few things, an' even helped me paint it!"

"Bless her heart," Gomer murmured. "You plannin' on havin' some guests over, then?"

Lou Ann blushed. "Actually, I think we'll be havin' a guest in that room real soon."

"That's nice. Then you won't get so lonesome, bein' all by yourself." Gomer paused, as if just realizing the meaning of her words. "Lou Ann? This guest that's comin' soon…"

She laughed expectantly. "Yes?"

"Is it your daddy? Cause I always seem to get the feelin' your daddy don't like me too well."

Lou Ann's face fell. "No. It's not my daddy."

"That's all right, then." Gomer stood and waited for Lou Ann to sit down before following suit. He thought hard over his predicament, completely ignorant of his wife, who was sidling close.

"You're awful quiet tonight, Gomer."

""Hmm,"

"I was thinkin'…maybe we cain all go out for dinner tonight?" Lou Ann giggled as she leaned against him. "Jus' the _three _of us?"

"Hmm. Lou Ann, I been thinkin' about what Sergeant Carter done told me an'…well, I got to tell you somethin' real important."

"So do I, Gomer. That is, if you don't know already." Lou Ann smiled.

"Hmm?"

"Well, I was jus' thinkin' about our guest. About it becomin' a _permanent _guest."

"Oh, lettin' out the apartment for rent? Yeah, that's a fine idear, Lou Ann. It'll make some extry income." Gomer was looking at the wall, only halfway tuned to the conversation. He was still mulling over what he had yet to tell her.

Lou Ann huffed in frustration. Gomer was missing all of her hints! Then again, he did seem awfully preoccupied…She shrugged and decided to try again.

She smiled and put her arms around him. "I was thinkin' more about all the nice times we cain have together. You know, you, me an'…" she gently picked up one of his hands and placed it on her stomach. "…our guest?" She smiled knowingly.

"Sure, Lou Ann. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine." Gomer sighed. "Lou Ann, I don't like this any better than you do, but…did you say you wanted to tell me somethin'?"

"Well! Never mind!" She cried, quickly standing and marching off.

"Wait, Lou Ann! What's wrong?" Gomer followed her, confusion written plainly on his face.

"As if you didn't know, Lance Corporal Pyle!" Lou Ann spat over her shoulder.

"But I don't, honestly I don't! Please, Lou Ann, give me another chance. I guess I jus' been a little distracted lately. I promise to pay better attention to you from now on." Gomer protested, desperately trying to stop her.

Lou Ann stopped at the entrance to the master bedroom and turned around. "As far as I'm concerned, that time has passed. An' you cain sleep in the guest room! Good night!" With that, she slammed the door closed in Gomer's face.

Once safely in the confines of her room, Lou Ann began to cry as though her heart would break. She sagged against the door, covering her face with her hands.

Gomer knocked tentatively. "Lou Ann? Cain I come in?"

"Go away!" She cried, throwing herself down on the bed.

Gomer shrugged dejectedly and trudged back to the couch, where he sat alone with his thoughts. He tried turning on the television for company, but it failed to amuse or distract him. This definitely wasn't the way he'd wanted to spend his last night in the States!

As oh-seven hundred came and went, hunger broke through his pressing thoughts to the front of his mind. He got up and fixed himself an omelet, taking one back to the couch and another one to the bedroom, where he gently knocked on the door. "Lou Ann? I got dinner for you." When no answer came, he shrugged and left it on the floor in front of the door.

When he returned his own polished dishes to the kitchen, he paused in the hallway and smiled. The plate was still sitting before the door, but only crumbs decorated its surface. He slowly walked over and picked it up, carrying them off to be washed.

He flipped to a movie on the television, discomfited to find it was _The Best Years of Our Lives. _Trying to block the unwelcome lines of the actors from his mind, he laid down on the couch and drifted into a fitful, dream-ridden sleep.

-

He awoke to find Lou Ann sitting on the edge of the couch by his head, stroking his black hair. He blinked a couple of times before slowly sitting up. "Hey, Lou Ann."

She smiled softly back at him. "Hey, Gomer."

"What time is it?" He looked around the room, his gaze falling on the flickering television tiredly.

"About near midnight," Lou Ann gently took his hands in hers. "I'm so sorry, Gomer. For, for bein' so awful earlier."

"I'm glad you're okay now. That warn't like you at all, Lou Ann." Gomer brushed his hair out of his eyes and squeezed her hand.

"All the same, I don't deserve your understandin' after the way I behaved."

"Lou Ann, you know that ain't true at all. It ain't never too much to give someone you love your understandin'. An' I'll stick by you always." Gomer nodded emphatically.

"Oh, Gomer! If I could only see things as clear as you do sometimes." Lou Ann laughed. "Actually, I do have an excuse, though."

Gomer looked down at her in gentle concern. "What's that?"

"Gomer, it's the most wonderful news I have to tell you!" Lou Ann cried excitedly, crawling into his lap. She smiled at the perplexed look he gave her and quickly kissed his cheek. "I should've told you earlier instead of now!"

"What is it, Lou Ann?" He asked, by now fully awake.

"Oh, Gomer. I went to the doctor today for some medication cause I've been feelin' so tired lately an' I found it out. You'll never believe it, jus' never believe it! I could hardly believe it myself when the doctor told me!"

"You're due for a flu vaccine in six months?"

"No, silly!" Lou Ann frowned at him playfully, then smiled. "What I found out, Gomer, is that we're gonna have a baby!"

"A…" Gomer's eyes widened in surprise. He couldn't even find his voice to say the words. "Shazaam!"

"Aren't you thrilled? You're gonna be a daddy!" Lou Ann cried exultantly.

"A daddy?!" Gomer laid his head back against the couch, suddenly overwhelmed with a torrent of frightening new thoughts.

"You've always loved children," Lou Ann laughed happily. "Now you an I'll have one to call our own!"

"Are you sure now?" Gomer looked up into her eyes searchingly.

Lou Ann nodded. "The doctor showed me pitchers. Wanna see 'em?" She opened up a magazine on the coffee table and slowly lifted the scans from where she'd hidden them.

Gomer held them with trembling hands, still incredulous. Lou Ann pointed over his shoulder at one of them. "See that teeny, tiny, itty-bitty spot right there?"

Gomer swallowed and nodded.

"That's our baby!" She smiled. "That's why I've been feelin' so tired an' grumpy these days. The doctor said it was because I'm havin' a baby, an' I'll prob'ly start feelin' sick, too."

"That little thing cain do all that?" Gomer shakily pointed to the spot.

"Well, it's not gonna stay that small. It'll grow into a baby!" Lou Ann smiled at his naïveté. "We cain expect it sometime next March! Oh, Gomer, we talked about strikin' up a family. Now it's actually gonna happen!"

"Shazaam!" Gomer said again, finally starting to sort his feelings out. It was unbelievable. "It's wonderful, Lou Ann!" He looked at her stomach sideways. "You don't look no dif'rent, though. Ain't that kinda funny how there's somethin' alive-like growin' inside you?"

"That's Mother Nature, Gomer." Lou Ann sighed happily. "Don't you worry about me not lookin' it. With any luck, I'll start gettin' big real fast. An' I'm so excited, I could scream! I cain't wait for the baby to get here!"

"The guest room!" Gomer exclaimed suddenly. "Now I know what you was talkin' about!" He shook his head gladly. "What better guest than your own family?"

"Oh, Gomer!" Lou Ann exclaimed, kissing him on the mouth warmly. The expectant couple felt like they were ten feet above the ground in their elation. Gomer still couldn't believe what was happening to them. It was beyond even his wildest dreams. He held Lou Ann as he would a bird; firmly but gently.

They broke off, laughing as Lou Ann leaned against Gomer, who held her close. "Wonderful! Jus' wonderful!" He murmured happily. He looked down at his wife, fingering her as if she were made of fine porcelain. "You got to be real careful now. You got the little feller to look after."

Lou Ann smiled under his gentle concern. "I will, Gomer. Now, since I got to take care of the baby, you got to help look after me. That way, we'll get through these next nine months together. You, me, an' our baby." She sighed and closed her eyes, burying her head in his chest.

Lou Ann's words startled a memory Gomer had completely forgotten about. An unwelcome one. His stomach dropped and he felt his mouth go dry. His hands went cold, every ounce of his body teeming with tension and utter despair.

Lou Ann felt the change come over her husband and she looked up into his face imploringly. "Gomer, what is it?"

"Shazaam," He uttered quietly in mortification. "We're havin' a baby…an' I'm gettin' deployed to Vietnaam!"

-

"You WHAT?!" Bunny Carter exclaimed, causing Tipper to jump off her lap and run out of the room.

"Don't use that tone of voice with me!" Sergeant Carter protested. "I didn't have a choice!"

"Vince, that's terrible! The poor dears," Bunny shook her head sadly.

"Why do you get so involved with them?" Carter grumbled unhappily, cautiously sitting down beside her. "Seventy-five to a hundred Marines are pulled out of Camp Henderson every week to go to Vietnam! And you have sympathy for one just because you're friends with his wife."

Bunny glared at him hotly. "You don't understand anything, do you, Vince? You just go galloping on ahead, jumping to conclusions before you even know the whole story!"

"I do not!" Carter shot back indignantly. "And who's telling the story here? You or me?"

"You had your turn and you told me your half. Now it's time for my part. That is, if you ever shut up and listen to me." Bunny growled.

"What more is there to tell?"

"Only the entire crux of the matter!" Bunny spread her arms out indignantly. "Vince, Lou Ann's pregnant!"

"What?…How…how'd you know?" Carter suddenly felt like he was nailed to the ground.

"She found out this morning and came over to tell me! Of course, I've known all along." Bunny nodded. "Call it a woman's intuition."

"So?"

"So? When Gomer called to say he could spend the night, she was so happy because she'd be able to surprise him with the news! Now I know why he could get away." She regarded him accusingly. "Because you signed him over to the commie war!"

"I've told you before, Bunny. I didn't have a choice! You'd think I'd willingly put a knucklehead like Pyle over in a devastating situation he's far less than capable of handling?"

Bunny eyed him coolly.

Carter squirmed under her gaze. "Well?"

"Yes." She finally replied, turning away from him, her arms folded across her chest.

Carter's blood started to boil. He shakily pointed a finger at Bunny. "Now look here, I…"

"I don't want to hear it, Vince! I know how you treat Gomer like dirt!"

"The paper came from Washington! I'm not going to take a stand against the Pentagon!"

"Why don't you try it? Do the nice thing for a change and help repay him for all the favors he's done you!"

"Bun-ny! I will _never _stick my neck out again for Pyle after nearly colliding head-on with the Chaplain! And just to keep the record straight, I have no desire whatsoever to lose my stripes!" Carter patted his sleeve protectively.

"But you could still do…"

"Policy's policy!"

"You're just so mean I could…"

"You join the Marines and see how long it takes you to get court-martialed for…"

-

"Why?" Lou Ann raised her tear-stained face to Gomer's in despondency. "Why did this have to happen to us?"

Gomer bravely swallowed his tears, but it did nothing to quell the immense pain in his chest. His worst fears had been realized. He hated to see Lou Ann so hurt and distraught over his news. He pulled a hankie out of his back pocket and gently dabbed at Lou Ann's eyes. "I don't rightly know, darlin'. But we got to face it anyhow. I'll be all right, don't you worry none."

"It isn't enough that I'm as out of sorts as I am! Now I have to live in constant fear, wonderin' if you're…if you're…" She slowly began to cry again. "Oh, Gomer! I may never see you again!"

"Don't feel bad, Lou Ann. You will, one way or another." Gomer reached inside his shirt and pulled out his metal dogtags from around his neck. "See, these dogtags got my name, an' my serial number so that way people will come along an' know who I am in case…"

"Don't say it!" Lou Ann quickly covered his mouth. She trembled for a moment before collapsing against him, heartrending sobs racking her body.

"Goll-ly, Lou Ann. I didn't mean to upset you." Gomer held her up, pained at how much hurt he was inflicting upon her. "If it's anythin' like the war games at the base, the worst that cain happen to me is I get this little tag that says 'killed' on it. But I'll really be jus' fine."

"Gomer, I think this is a bit different from your training exercises," Lou Ann sobbed. "My baby might not have a daddy!"

"Do you really think…?" Gomer's voice slowly trailed off. "Shazaam!" Suddenly, he was very frightened.

"I wisht you didn't have to go! Gomer…where is Vietnaam?"

Gomer gulped and cradled her head in his arms. "All the way on the other side of the world." His voice trembled, threatening to break. Lou Ann's question recalled to his mind the conversation with Sergeant Carter in which he'd asked the same question. Thinking of his sergeant, he steadied himself. "We got to be brave now. Cause there ain't nuthin' we cain do about it. You gotta look after our baby an' I gotta go to war. An' it'll be for better or for worse, even if the future looks kinda uncertain right now." He forced a tight smile. "You wanna know somethin'? When I enlisted, they told me I was gonna go places, an' I was excited. Who ever knew that I'd have to go now, jus' when I didn't want to anymore?"

"Gomer, how cain I be brave when I'm so scared?" Lou Ann cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

"You think I ain't scared?" He murmured quietly in her ear. "Come now, Lou Ann. It won't be as bad as you think. I'll put in for leave soon as I get there so I cain be here with you when the baby's bein' borned. An' I'll write ever' single day. Sometimes twice. It'll be like I never left home!"

"Only you won't be here." She choked quietly.

"Not really, no. But if you really think about it, I'll always be with you. In your mind an' your heart an'…" He shook his head from side to side, smiling. He gestured to her stomach. "Right there."

"You're right." Lou Ann sniffed and dried her eyes. "We gotta keep a stiff upper lip." She smiled shakily. "What time do you got to report?"

"I gotta be on my plane at oh-seven hundred." Gomer glanced at his watch. "So about six hours, more or less."

"Well, we're jus' gonna have to enjoy what time we have then, an' not even talk about the war!" Lou Ann kissed his cheek lovingly.

"What war?" Gomer smiled and hugged her. Lou Ann was simply amazing.

Lou Ann laughed. "For the next six hours, it'll jus' be you, me, an' our baby."

As they leaned close for a kiss, they were interrupted by the television. Both had completely forgotten it was still on. Startled, they turned to look at it.

"…if it turns out I haven't courage enough, we'll soon know it." The young lady on the screen declared.

Lou Ann calmly walked over to it and switched it off. "Sorry, Cathy O'Donnell. You're not invited."


	9. Someone to Watch Over Me

**Chapter 9**

_Someone to Watch Over Me_

Gomer fell asleep on the helicopter as it lifted off and began the long journey from Saigon to his camp in Vietnam. He tried not to think about what he was getting into or what he was leaving behind, but it was terribly hard. Unwelcome thoughts haunted his deep slumber.

He awoke hours later with a start when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He rubbed his eyes and looked up at the perpetrator. "Duke?"

"Hey, buddy." Corporal Slater tried to smile, despite the fact that he was weighed down by all his gear. He was already dressed and ready to go, his belongings packed and hanging over his shoulders.

"Goll-ly, Duke! Ain't that nice to find a friend all the way out in another country!" Gomer smiled up at Duke. "You know where you're goin'?"

"Yeah, division six, a Sergeant Brooks. Apparently, his corporal got killed in a guerilla fight last week and I'm being sent in as his replacement."

"Well, go-oll-ly! Ain't that a happy circumstance? I'm in the same division you are. I even got the same sergeant!" Gomer grinned. "At least I got you here with me!"

"Yeah," Slater smiled. "That is nice. Come on, Gomer. We get out in twenty minutes and you're not even ready for touchdown yet." He picked up a jar and scooped his hand inside before smearing the dark substance across Gomer's face.

"What's that?" Gomer felt some of the face paint with his fingers. He looked up at Duke, whose face as also covered with the same goop.

"Mixture of paint and mud, mostly." Duke ladled out some more, careful to keep it away from his friend's eyes.

"What's it for?"

"Please, Gomer, don't move. This stuff burns! It's camouflage paint. Don't want those commies to see you, do you?"

"Well, no, but…Duke? What are commies?"

Duke sighed. "Don't you ever read the papers or watch the news on television?"

"I sure do! Why, jus' las' night, Mrs. Dale Bennett lost her cat when she was walkin' it, an' she put a reward in the local paper. I saw it, cause it was real big, too. You couldn't miss that one if you tried. It's jus' got those big letters that're real black an' thick that your eyes jus' cain't help but look at 'em. Have you ever done that, Duke? Tried not to look at somethin', but you end up doin' it, anyway? Sometimes eyes jus' got a mind of their own. If they see somethin' that's eye catchin', they'll look at it, whether you want to or not. An' guess what else? The news they show on the television down at the Bluebird Café talked about there bein' another robbery down by that museum in Hollywood again." He began to shake his head. "Shame, shame, OW!"

"Darn it, Gomer, I told you to hold still!" Duke grabbed his handkerchief and held his friend's head steady while he carefully dabbed it out of his eyes. "Don't…move…a muscle."

"It hurts," Gomer whispered.

"Well, I didn't mean to do it! If you would only quit moving your head, this never would have happened!"

"I'm sorry, Duke."

His friend smiled. "It wasn't your fault." He shook the hankie out and replaced it in his pocket. "There. Here's your helmet." He handed it up from the floor. "And your rifle, and your belongings." He helped Gomer ease the large pack onto his back. "Ready for this?"

"I guess so." Gomer still somehow felt stunned about the whole thing. He'd been yanked from his comfortable training camp and thrown into the brutal real test in only a matter of days. Suddenly, he realized that he'd just lied for the first time. He wasn't ready for this at all!

"Gome, don't forget this, okay?" Duke handed him his bayonet blade.

Placing the blade in a sheath hanging from his belt brought the whole thing home for Gomer. He trembled as he finished the job, his countenance underneath the paint as sickly as that of a ghost.

Duke looked out the window and gestured for Gomer to follow. "Come on, we're almost to the camp."

"Duke…I cain't…I cain't move!" Gomer whimpered, his fear leaving him paralyzed to the spot.

"What are you talking about? Of course you can!" Duke exclaimed impatiently. "Now, come on! We're landing!"

"Duke…I…I'm scared."

The corporal's features softened and he walked back over to Gomer, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "Hey, we're all in the same boat. We don't know what to expect. But whatever lies in store for us, we'll get through it together, right?"

"Right." Gomer nodded. He was so glad Duke was here! Things were so much easier to deal with when he had an old friend by his side. Thinking over Duke's words, Gomer frowned. "But Duke, we ain't in a boat. We're in a helicopter."

Slater laughed. "Well, we're all in the same helicopter, aren't we? Come on," He took Gomer by the arm and led him toward the door. "Let's go get our first taste of Vietnam…"

-

Sergeant Carter returned to the duty hut to pick up his roster from where he'd left it when he'd gone to breakfast. He quickly picked it up, glancing at what was next on the day's agenda. To his surprise, he found a note clipped on over the top of the roster. He paused to read it.

**'Dear Sargent Carter,**

**When you get around to reading this note, I'll already be gone. Don't you worry, I ain't shirking my duties or nuthin, I'm ready to go. There's jus this one thing I'm leaving behind me's what's causing some trouble. It's Lou Ann. You see, she's in the family way right now an since I'm gone, there'll be no one to look after her. I was wonderin if you would look after her for me an make sure she's all right. She's so delicate anyhow, an I really worry about anything happenin to her or the little feller while I'm away. I know that I cain't leave her in safer hands than yours. I'd be much obliged to you, Sargent. An don't you worry about me. I'll be all right. I still ain't too sure about this whole thing, but I guess I've come to accept my fate. Whatever it is. Tell Miss Bunny that Gomer says hey.**

**Sincerely,**

**Lance Corporal Gomer Pyle, USMC'**

Carter sighed. It wasn't enough for Pyle to be caught in a war halfway around the world worrying him to death, now he was stuck worrying over Pyle's wife and kid, who had been entrusted blindly to him! He didn't know whether to be infuriated or touched.

He threw the clipboard down and picked up the phone, hastily dialing a number he knew by heart. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the line to pick up. "Bunny? It's Vince. Listen, why don't you go over and sit with Lou Ann a while? You two are such good friends anyway and…what? Why? So what if you're doing your hair? I want you to go over there and sit with her. You know Pyle's away and she's well, you know…Bunny, it's not your place to ask!" He winced and held the phone away from his ear as Bunny's loud and indignant reply sounded over the line. As she paused for breath, he hastily jumped back in. "Look, just do it, okay?" He slammed down the phone and shook his head. Bunny sure was something. He unclipped Pyle's note and carefully folded it, tucking it snugly into his chest pocket.

Corporal Boyle poked his head through the door. "Sarge, got that roster yet?"

Carter frowned at the intruder. "Yeah, yeah! Just had some personal matters to attend to, that's all! Can't a man get some privacy around here?"

Boyle raised his eyebrows. "Sorry, Sarge."

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Carter shooed Boyle away. He needed a few more minutes to himself. The note Pyle had left had definitely served to confuse him. Had one knucklehead of his finally penetrated the hard-as-nails exterior he'd used to bar himself from the rest of the world?

Carter shook his head. He didn't have time to think about how deeply he cared for Pyle. He had too many other things on his plate.

-

Duke sat down in the grass next to his friend, who was scribbling away on a sheet of paper. "Hey, Gomer."

Gomer didn't even look up, much less pause in his writing. "Hey, Duke."

"That must be some letter there."

"It's to Lou Ann, tellin' her ever'thing I've done an' askin' what she's doin' an' sayin' how much I miss her." Gomer signed his name with a flourish and turned to his friend. "I promised I'd write to her ever' day."

"I can relate." Duke grinned. "I've got about five girls back home all anxious to know the state of my welfare. I've got some letter writing to do myself."

Before Gomer could speak up against Duke's cavalier love life, his friend motioned the photographer over their way. "Hey, how about a picture to send back to Lou Ann?"

Before Gomer knew what was happening, he was standing next to Duke, his arm across his friend's shoulder. He smiled into the camera as it flashed, spitting out a black sheet the size of a large index card.

"Thanks, Gary." Duke took the still-developing photo and handed it to Gomer.

Just then, Sergeant Brooks walked by. "What are we? Movie stars or infantrymen?" He grumbled crossly, not even breaking stride as he passed the duo. As they'd found out, they'd both looked like idiots walking into camp with their heavy bags and war paint. The first thing Brooks had said to them was, "What are we? Navy SEALs or Marines?" Their ignorance was great, and Brooks was being none the more gracious for it.

Duke nodded at his retreating back. "What do you think of the new sarge?"

Gomer shook his head. "He ain't no Sergeant Carter, that's for sure."

"Gomer, sometimes I think you've pledged allegiance to Sergeant Carter on a stack of Bibles."

"You ain't far from the truth, at that." Gomer sniffed. "I get the feelin' this feller don't care too kindly for us. Now, Sergeant Carter, he cares."

"Sergeant Carter sure has a funny way of showing it," Duke muttered.

"But he does, all right. Remember when he told you 'happy birthday' on your birthday?"

"Yeah, and after that, he gave me five hundred push-ups before we all went on a twenty-five mile hike." Duke smiled. "Gee, what a swell birthday present, huh?"

"There you go again, Duke. You ain't bein' truthful. I cain see it in your eyes. Besides, Sergeant Carter does too care about people. An' animals. Remember when he pretended to shoot Ralph when he really didn't? Or when he protected Henrietter an' her kittens from that CPO on the Navy boat, even though they was contraband? Or when he let me sneak the baby I was sittin' onto the base even though there was a Colonel's inspection due? That all points to one thing. Sergeant Carter ain't heartless." Gomer nodded with finality.

"As you say," Duke shrugged and let the subject drop. "Well, now that I know where you stand with the Sarge, what do you think of Vietnam?"

Gomer thought about it for a minute. He hadn't been there very long, so it was hard to tell. "Well…it's hot…an' gots lots of mosquiters."

"That's because we're already camped in for the night." Duke grinned. "Wait'll you see the sights."

"Sights? Like parks an' museums an'…"

"Not places, Gomer. People. Gosh, I can't wait to lay eyes on Vietnamese girls."

"But Duke, I thought you said you had five girls back home." Gomer stared at his friend incredulously.

"I do. But they never have to know about the Vietnamese girls. They don't even know about each other! Carpe diem, Gomer!"

Gomer took a step away from his friend, his eyes wide in surprise. "Shame on you, Duke! Shame, shame, shame!" He couldn't help but be shocked by Duke's behavior sometimes. He'd been raised to be a gentleman, one who was true to his girl. His immense love, respect, and loyalty to Lou Ann kept him faithful to her, no matter who came across him at any moment. Even before he'd joined the Marines, Gomer had a full understanding of the sense of duty and honor.

"I'm always faithful to my girl!" Gomer exclaimed indignantly. "You should try it sometime, Duke. It's real rewardin'. Look where it got me."

"Yeah, in a mess." Duke shuddered. "I'll fight like Cyrano de Bergerac before you get me to do the same."

Gomer shook his head. "I ain't in a mess. Not on Sergeant Carter's watch. An' I jus' know that he'll come through for me. An' you know why?"

"Because he cares," they both answered at the same time.

-

Lou Ann sighed and fanned herself with her grocery list while Bunny and Sergeant Carter carried her brown paper grocery bags into the apartment. As soon as she was standing by the couch, she collapsed down onto it in exhaustion.

"Oh, my goodness! Are you okay?" Bunny and Sergeant Carter dropped their bags on the floor and hurried to her side worriedly.

"I'm fine. I'm jus' tired, that's all." Lou Ann smiled softly.

"Tired, tired, what does that mean?" Carter asked frantically.

"Nothing. It just means that she's pooped, that's all." Bunny patted Lou Ann's hand reassuringly, throwing an annoyed glance at her husband at the same time. "If you want to do something helpful, you ought to put a fan on for her."

"Fan, fan…" Carter stood and began to search the apartment. Once he'd turned his back, Bunny rolled her eyes, causing Lou Ann to laugh.

"How has it been?" Bunny glanced at Lou Ann's stomach, which was only giving the slightest inclination that it was starting to swell.

"Oh…" Lou Ann gently massaged the area with her fingers and closed her eyes. "I didn't know one itty bitty little baby could make someone so tired."

"It's growing?" Bunny prodded gently.

Lou Ann smiled. "Actually, I've picked up two pounds since Gomer left."

"That's wonderful!" Bunny exclaimed. "Gomer would be so excited."

"Won't this be a nice surprise for him if he gets back on leave?" Lou Ann's eyes filled with worry as she gazed imploringly at Bunny.

"_When _he gets back on leave. I'm sure he's fine right as we speak, missing you like nothing else."

Lou Ann sighed deeply. "You really think so?"

"Of course I do! How could you even doubt it's true?" Bunny slapped her wrist playfully.

"If only I could have him here with me! You learn to never take a person's presence for granted when you marry a serviceman, that's for sure." Lou Ann suddenly shut her eyes as an intense breeze hit her head on.

"Vince!" Bunny held her hands up to block the strong current. "I said put it on! Not turn it up full blast!"

Carter slowly took the fan down a few notches. "Don't bite my head off! You didn't specify how high you wanted it!" He pouted, frowning at Bunny.

"You should know better! I don't _have _to specify!" Bunny pointed out archly. "You're a sergeant! You should determine these things for yourself without me giving you _exact _instructions!"

Lou Ann plugged her ears as the two engaged in a shouting match. It always seemed that Bunny and Sergeant Carter were at odds with each other, and sometimes for the stupidest of reasons!

_The mail. _The thought suddenly entered her head and she sat up with a start. Struggling to find her balance, she made a move to stand.

"…and you just can't assume…Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Bunny put her arm out abruptly to halt Lou Ann in her tracks.

"The mail should be here now." Lou Ann grimaced and held her forehead, a splitting headache befalling her as she stood.

"Don't you dare get up!" Bunny pushed her back down onto the couch and turned to her husband. "Vince, go get the mail!"

"But _Bun-ny! _It's four flights downstairs to the front desk and the elevator's broken!"

"Vince! Go…get…the mail!" Bunny bore her gaze into him, growling lowly.

Sergeant Carter opened his mouth to protest, then decided it was useless and waved her off. "Oh, all right. But I'm _not _sleeping on the floor tonight!"

"Humph," Bunny turned away from him and crossed her arms. She waited until he was gone before muttering, "we'll just see about that."

"Oh, please hurry." Lou Ann breathed, excitement welling up inside of her despite her tired and miserable state.

"Hoping for something in particular?" Bunny smiled knowingly.

"Actually, I am. But I don't like to get my hopes up." Lou Ann flexed her fingers, feeling she would explode if she weren't so sick.

"How long has it been?"

"Six days, four hours an' thirty-two minutes." She answered a little too quickly. She blushed even as she said it.

"Why, you have perfect right to be anxious! That's practically a lifetime!"

"Please, don't be funny. For me, it's been too long. An' he promised me he'd write ever' day! If there's one thing I know about Gomer, it's he never breaks a promise."

"You have to understand he's half a world apart. The mail is bound to be slow." Bunny bit her lip, starting to see where her friend was coming from.

"Bunny…what if…if…somethin' happened to him?" Lou Ann's voice trembled uncertainly, terrified to the point of distraction.

Bunny sighed and gently hugged her. "I don't know, Lou Ann. We just won't know until we hear from him."

"_If _we hear from him at all," Lou Ann murmured quietly, feeling her stomach longingly. Doing so reminded her of what Gomer had told her when she'd learned of his deployment. She imagined him as she'd seen him last, getting ready to board his plane, the goofy grin on his face as he'd waved to her, vowing he couldn't wait to see her again. _Those gentle brown eyes…_

He'd had no idea what he was getting himself into. The war could have changed him by now. Lou Ann had been following all the happenings in the newspaper ever since he'd left. None of it was good. Especially the protestations in their own country that had turned violent. _"They're not only killing our boys abroad, but they're doing it in our own backyard…" _Lou Ann shuddered. They didn't understand that Gomer had a duty to his country to fulfill. He was gallant to be putting himself in harm's way for someone else's ideals. She'd stand behind him forever, even if it meant…

"Bunny," Lou Ann murmured quietly, "I want my baby to join the service, like Gomer did."

Bunny nodded, not about to contest the expectant mother's fervent wish.

Sergeant Carter finally reentered, riffling through the mail as he made his way over to them.

Bunny frowned. "Vince! You're not supposed to read other people's mail!"

"Oh, come off it, will ya? I just double timed it down four flights of stairs to the front desk, wait behind Mrs. Perkins, who was complaining about all sorts of plumbing problems in her apartment on the third floor, get the mail, and run back up again! I don't want to hear it!" Carter threw the mail down on the coffee table.

"Since you saw it already, cain you tell me what I got?" A small glimmer of hope made itself visible in Lou Ann's eyes.

"Bills, bills, and more bills." Sergeant Carter grumbled tiredly.

Lou Ann quickly snatched up the envelopes and went through them. "You're right," she moaned, becoming crestfallen once again.

"Oh, I forgot one thing." Sergeant Carter drew a letter out from behind his back. "Express delivery from Vietnam."

"Gomer!" Lou Ann jumped up and tore the envelope from the sergeant's grasp. She hastily sat down and opened it, pulling out the sheet of paper familiarly written in her husband's indecipherable hand.

**'Dear Lou Ann,**

**How are you an how's the little feller? I hope you're doin all right. I'm here in Veeitnaam an I'm jus fine. It's a lot hotter here than it is back home. An things looks so strange an difrent that I miss home ever time I look around me. How is the weather there? I hope it's fine, but be sure to keep dry when it's wet an bundle up when it's cold. It rains here nearly ever day, but don't worry about me. I'm not entirely alone. Look at the pikshur I sent you an you'll see what I mean by that. Sargent Brooks knows what he's doin, all right, but that's really all there is to say about him. He ain't like Sargent Carter. Tell Sargent Carter Gomer says hey.'**

Lou Ann looked up. "Gomer says hey."

"Of course he does." Sergeant Carter rolled his eyes.

**'I already put in for leave an I hope to see you soon. Take it easy an be real careful now. Keep on writin me back. It'll help us get through these next few months together. I think of you night an day an I hope you ain't too bad off. I jus know that Sargent Carter will look after you for me an see to that. Well, I better finish writin this before Sargent Brooks comes an takes it away cause I'm a serviceman an not a author. I love you an I hope to hear from you soon.**

**Sincerely,**

**Gomer'**

Lou Ann closed her eyes and pressed the letter to her. _I'm jus' fine…don't worry about me…I'm jus' fine. _Tears sprung to her eyes as she thought of it. Gomer hadn't changed, not according to his letter. He was safe. That was all she could hope for.

Bunny gently put a hand on her shoulder. "You okay, hon?"

Lou Ann nodded. "This…means the world to me. I feel almost as if Gomer was standin' here tellin' me all this." She pulled out the photograph Gomer had mentioned in his letter, looking at it fondly. She laughed and pointed to it. "Will you look at this?"

Bunny and Sergeant Carter leaned over her shoulder to look. Carter frowned and pointed to the figure on the right. "That's Slater! I'd know his cheeky grin anywhere!"

Lou Ann smiled, her hand gently brushing the figure on the left. "An' that's my Gomer."

The two stood together in the photograph, each man's arm over the other's shoulder. Viewable from the waist up, they both wore their fatigues with the sleeves rolled up the elbows in response to the heat. They both still had their combat helmets on. They almost looked as if they were having a good time, smiling widely for the camera.

Lou Ann shook her head softly. "Ain't he handsome, though? I'm so proud of him." She turned and smiled at Bunny and Sergeant Carter. "Go get me some pen an' paper. I want to write him back right away!"

As they scrambled to gather the requested items, Lou Ann gazed down lovingly at the photograph. It warmed her and frightened her at the same time to see Gomer dressed for heavy combat, but that was the reality of his job. She slowly began to form what she was going to write in her mind.

_'Dear Gomer,_

_I hope and pray ever' day for your safety and hope you are fine now as you read this. It heartens me to know how concerned you are, but both me and the baby are doing fine. But my darling, I cannot help but fear for you. The war is turning ugly, even over here. I won't go into details because you probably don't understand much about it anyways, and you shouldn't. Your blissful ignorance is one of the few beautiful things left on this earth. I miss you and I cain't help but wish you were here right now.'_

She looked up and smiled at Sergeant Carter and Bunny, who were arguing over which pen was better for her to use.

_'You've left me in fine hands, Gomer. Nothing will happen to me while you're gone, and I thank you for it.' _She glanced back down at the photo still in her hands. _'I only hope someone over there is watching over you as well.'_


	10. Game Over

**Chapter 10**

_Game Over_

Bunny slowly knocked before entering the Pyle's apartment at Lou Ann's "Come in."

She found the young mother-to-be sitting at the breakfast table, eating. She looked up at Bunny before shaking her head. "Hey, Bunny. I'm so sick of drinkin' milk all the time I could scream! But it is best for the baby." She sighed before taking a long drink out of her tall glass.

"Have you read this morning's paper?" Bunny asked uncertainly.

"No, I haven't, actually. Why?" Lou Ann looked up attentively.

"No reason. That's perfectly fine, I…I was just coming up to cut a coupon out of it if that was all right." She quickly spied Lou Ann's paper lying on the coffee table and snatched it up, hiding it behind her back.

Lou Ann jumped out of her chair. "What are you tryin' to hide from me?"

"Nothing!" Bunny protested, backing up toward the door.

Lou Ann marched toward her friend, her arm outstretched purposefully. "Give me that paper."

"But I'm not…"

"Give me the paper!" In the wake of her adrenaline, she was able to wrestle the newspaper from Bunny's grasp. She quickly unfolded it and read the headlines. "_Massacre at My Lai?"_

Bunny closed her eyes as Lou Ann sat down to read the gruesome tale. Her eyes quickly scanned over the black text, her heart throbbing so hard it felt like it could burst. As she soon discovered what it was all about, she initially relaxed. Then her horror slowly grew.

The incident had taken place last year, so Gomer was safe. He hadn't been involved. But now that the news had escaped, she felt no better for it. There'd been a reason the military had kept it hushed up for over a year.

The eleventh Army brigade under the command of Lieutenant William Calley had allegedly been ordered to kill everyone in the village of My Lai, close to My Son, South Vietnam, where several Vietcong troops had taken offensive positions. There, they'd rushed in and blindly opened fire.

Lou Ann's eyes widened and her stomach dropped as she read farther. The report entailed old men being bayoneted, praying women and children shot in the back of the head, young girls being raped and innocents lining up in ditches to be shot down like sitting ducks. She blanched, starting to feel dizzy. "Oh, my…oh, my…"

Bunny plucked the paper out of her hands and fanned her gently. "You okay?"

"Actually, I don't think so!" Lou Ann cried.

"It's all right, hon. It's all right. That was the Army, not the Marines." Bunny gently pushed her back so she was lying down.

"But Gomer's a infantryman…oh, he's over in…" she wearily pointed at the paper. "…_that _mess!"

"Lou Ann, you need to calm down. Gomer's all right. Getting all upset like this isn't doing you or the baby any good."

Lou Ann closed her eyes and laid her hands on the small hill that had become her stomach. She felt so sick. "Poor Gomer," she moaned softly. "He don't deserve havin' to see that. He shouldn't…Oh, poor Gomer!" She softly started to cry.

Bunny handed her a tissue. "Please don't cry. I'm sure he's fine right now. You've got to get a hold of yourself!" She shook her head. The usually calm and rational Lou Ann she once knew had left when she became pregnant and hadn't returned since.

As she soothed the distraught mother, Bunny threw a glance to the sky. She hoped for Lou Ann's sanity that Gomer had yet to come into contact with the harsh realities of war.

-

Gomer and Duke were eating potatoes for supper at their base camp with many of the other new troops outside. Several of the more seasoned fighters eyed them critically, bold enough to walk around with no shirts on, their metal dogtags hanging from their necks in proud display.

One took a long draw on his cigarette and ran a hand through his dark, sweat-soaked hair before casually strolling over to where the two sat. "So you're the newbies, eh?"

Gomer glanced up at him in surprise. "Yeah, we sure are. Came in about a month ago. Where's ever'one been, anyway? It's been jus' us an' the sergeant an' a few of the other fellers along with the ones we came in with what's been here at camp."

"Reconnaissance. Now we're back to inspect the newbies, see what fresh material we're getting. And you're it, I guess." The young man inclined his head coolly. "What's your name, fella?"

"I'm Gomer Pyle, an' this here's my buddy Duke. Actually, his real name is Gilbert, but he don't like that name, so ever'one jus' calls him Duke. What's yours?"

"Shrenk." The man's eyes narrowed at the pair. "Obviously, your basic training was very limited. You should know that while you're on duty, you're known on a surname basis only."

"Well, yes. We got excellent trainin'. I'm real sorry about that, Shrenk. I should've knowed better. You cain call me Pyle if you want to." Gomer slowly brightened. "Say, how long have you been over here?"

"Three years." The man took another long draw on his cigarette.

"How long have you been a Marine?"

"Three years." Shrenk gave the men a cockeyed smile. "Got pulled over here as soon as I finished school."

"Goll-ly, I sure hope you joined of your own accord. Me an' Duke here, we enlisted five years ago. I'm a lance corporal now an' he's a corporal. What's your rank?" Gomer looked the young man up and down. He was considerably younger than either of them, though he couldn't possibly be twenty-one.

Shrenk maintained his disinterested poise as he took yet another draw on his cigarette. "Lieutenant."

"A lieutenant?!" Gomer's eyes widened as he and Duke quickly stood at attention. "Ten hut!"

Shrenk glared at them and pointed at the two sternly. "Now look here. Never salute me, never stand up before me like that and, pray God, don't call me sir!" His gaze followed them as they slowly sat back down. "You understand?"

"Yes, sir. Oh, I sure am sorry, sir. What I mean to say is…" Gomer's voice trailed off as he caught sight of the lieutenant's menacing gaze. "Sorry Shrenk," he whispered.

"You know how many Charlies are probably spying on this camp right as we speak? They know I'm a CO and I'm done for!" Shrenk shook his head. "You guys got a lot to learn."

"Shrenk, if you don't mind my askin'…how old are you? You said you was sent over as soon you finished school, an' the Marines don't hand out any straight-off commissions any higher'n a PFC, an' that's only if you went to college." Gomer slowly ventured.

Shrenk regarded them humorously. "What are you, stupid or something? I was talking about OTS. And for the record, I'm twenty-five."

_Officers' Training School. _Gomer smiled weakly. "Goll-ly. I'm sorry," He murmured, embarrassed by his stupid mistake.

The lieutenant turned to Slater. "Corporal, hey? So you're Brooks' new cherry." He shook his head. "Corporal Stratton was one tough cookie. Lighter on his feet and quicker of mind than anyone else here. If there was anyone I thought was gonna survive this war, it was him." He sighed and returned to addressing both of them. "Here's a tip for all you newbies around here. Got any spare socks or canteens, keep 'em close to ya cause the other fellas'll try to take 'em away. Oh, and uh…eat up. It's back to c-rations starting tomorrow." Shrenk grinned again before walking away.

Duke shrugged and delved into his potatoes. "Gosh, I'm so glad the vets are giving us such a warm welcome, aren't you?"

"Now Duke, you ain't bein' truthful again." Gomer shook his head at his friend. "Things is jus' dif'rent here than they is back home. It'll take us some time, gettin' readjusted."

"I'm starting to get the feeling that I'm not going to like this 'readjustment,' as you call it." Duke rolled his eyes. "Personally, I don't enjoy the thought of myself becoming as arrogant or outspoken as that guy just because I've seen active combat."

"Really Duke? Cause I found that feller we jus' talked to as nice as he could be. Why, his confidence and helpfulness reminded me of you, is what!" Gomer smiled.

Duke shook his head. "How people can find valid arguments against yours is beyond my scope." He stood up to leave, his tray of potatoes still half-full.

"Ain't you gonna eat your dinner?" Gomer nodded to the plate.

"Nah, I'll bag 'em up and eat 'em cold tomorrow. Remember what Shrenk said? We're on c-rations until further notice." Duke patted his friend's shoulder and moved off toward his bedroll. Since the rest of the unit had returned, they were being marched off to a separate clearing for combat, one in which they would have to be using survival gear off base. The prospect of camping in this neck of the woods didn't sound very appealing, to be sure. Gomer and Duke certainly weren't looking forward to it.

Gomer sat and mulled over the lieutenant's words. _"Never salute me…" _He couldn't even count the numerous times Sergeant Carter had yelled at him because he'd forgotten to salute one of his superior officers. _"Spare socks and canteens…other fellas'll try to take 'em away." _He couldn't imagine a Marine stealing from someone else, especially one of his Marine brothers! He thought the Marines were honorable, and fought to keep it that way! He closed his eyes and shivered. This place sure wasn't home!

Suddenly, Gomer looked down at his rifle and shivered. It was loaded with bullets. The idea was not new to him, yet one thing differed. These bullets wouldn't be fired harmlessly across an open rifle range. They'd be used to try to intentionally kill other people. A feeling of revulsion at his chosen vocation crept over him. All sense of duty, honor and loyalty to the Corps left him. He should never have done this. He should've stayed an auto mechanic back in Mayberry with his cousin Goober. At least fixing cars never hurt anyone!

"_What is this, Pyle? Are you shirking your duties again? I thought you said you wanted to be a real Marine!"_

Gomer looked up, startled, only to see no one there. He could've sworn he'd heard Sergeant Carter's voice admonishing him.

"_Yes, it's me, Pyle! Your old sarge, remember? Where's that conscientious Marine I worked so hard to build? Huh?"_

"That's me all right, sir. But I'm plumb scared. I…I couldn't ever kill anyone!" Gomer protested.

"_I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WANTED TO MAKE ME PROUD! WHERE'S YOUR HEAD? IF THERE'S ONE THING I NEVER WANTED TO DO, IT'S TRAIN A DESERTER! DON'T BE THE FIRST, PYLE! I'M WARNING YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME?"_

"Yes, sir. I heard you, all right." Gomer murmured, causing two men walking past him to shoot quizzical looks in his direction.

"_YOU'VE GOT THE GREATEST JOB ON EARTH, YOU HEAR ME? SOMEONE HAS TO DO THIS AND THAT RESPONSIBILITY FALLS ON YOU! YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU!"_

I know that, Sergeant. I jus' don't see how I cain do this, tryin' not to get killed while tryin' to kill other people at the same time. I jus' know I cain't!"

"_Pyle, if you're having doubts about your abilities even after you've completed basic training, that means you're pushing the blame back on me! ARE YOU SAYING I DIDN'T DO A GOOD ENOUGH JOB TRAINING YOU?!"_

"No, sir. I sure ain't, sir. I couldn't have gotten better trainin' from anyone else, Sergeant Carter."

"_THEN STRAIGHTEN UP AND ACT LIKE IT! TAKE IT LIKE A MARINE AND DEAL WITH IT!"_

"If that's what you want me to do, then I'll do it." Gomer nodded with conviction.

"_SHUT UP, PYLE! GO! MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE IT!"_

Gomer raced over to his bedroll and sat down beside it. He turned to Duke. "You know who I got the strangest feelin' I was talkin' to?"

"Who?" Duke glanced at his friend in mild interest as he folded up his bagged up potatoes, placing them inside his helmet before replacing it on his head.

"Sergeant Carter!" Gomer exclaimed. "I could've sworn he was talkin' to me jus' now!"

Duke shook his head. "If I ever thought I heard Sergeant Carter speaking to me, I think I'd be ready to go off in a corner and shoot myself."

Gomer's eyes widened in horror. "Don't say that, Duke! Don't even think like that! That's jus' terrible! Terrible, terrible, terrible!"

"Calm down, Gomer. I was kidding." Duke unrolled his pack and started to get ready for the evening.

"Well, it wasn't very funny." Gomer muttered as he began to do the same. He slowly took off his helmet and laid it on the ground beside him. He glanced around furtively as he took out the non-regulation items he kept stored in it and hid them under his bedroll. First was a small, black-and-white snapshot of Sergeant Carter that he'd kept for a long time. Nobody could guide him through this war like Sergeant Carter could. It really helped to have that constant reminder of him there with the lance corporal all the time. Second was his lucky troll doll his grandmother had given him all those years ago. He'd figured he'd need all the luck out here he could get. Third was Lou Ann's latest letter, which included the most recent scans of the baby. He couldn't help but shake his head every time he looked at them. The baby wasn't a spot anymore—it actually was starting to look like a real little person! Seeing them made him feel homesick. He wished he could be there with Lou Ann right now! He looked down at his fourth and final item; the picture of Lou Ann straddling the cannon at Fort Fisher. He sighed heavily. The photo had perfectly captured her loveliness and utter elation. He missed her even more than he missed Sergeant Carter. He felt so complete and not alone whenever he was with her. He couldn't help but feel he was somehow neglecting her in her time of need.

As he gazed at the picture, Lou Ann's words came back to him as clear as Sergeant Carter's. _"I want you to be the very best Marine you cain be…After all, it's your duty as a man of the service…You couldn't have left me in more capable hands…"_

Gomer smiled and shook his head. "What would I ever do without you, Lou Ann? You an' Sergeant Carter. I couldn't make this without you."

Duke groaned from the ground beside Gomer. "Stop talking to those voices inside your head and get some sleep, will ya?"

Gomer carefully tucked his valuable possessions in beside him, hugging his troll doll protectively as he fell asleep.

-

The men awoke earlier than usual the next morning to Sergeant Brooks' boot jabbing them in the chest. "Get up, you lazy bums! We move out at oh-six-hundred."

Gomer quickly stuffed the doll, photographs, and letter back into his combat helmet. He groaned and felt his side. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and looked over at his friend. "Duke? Time to get up."

"I know, Gomer. Believe me, I know." Duke winced as he sat up, gently fingering his ribcage.

Gomer slowly stood, brushing his nylon uniform off before pulling out his razor and shaving cream. He moved drowsily over to the tree where one of the men had hung a mirror. As he lathered up, he looked at some of the troops behind him in the mirror, who were just waking up. Most of them were still baby-faced, too young to shave! And them being over in this war…Gomer shook his head. It was a crying shame.

Duke yawned as he joined him. "Five years in the Marines and we get shipped out to a platoon full of boys."

"Hush, Duke! They might hear you! I think it's sad, real sad, if you ask me."

"Yeah? Well, nobody asked you. I think it's ridiculous." Duke ducked to avoid Gomer's elbow and ended up cutting his chin with his razor. "Y-IKES! Watch where you're swinging that arm, will ya?"

"I'm sorry, Duke. I got a band-aid if you jus' cut yourself, is what."

"Band-aid…" Duke muttered crossly. "A whole army of Charlies out to get me and it'll be my best friend who ends up finishing me off!"

"Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this mornin'." Gomer smiled, chiding his friend.

"For your information, I didn't sleep in a bed last night. And I'm not really in the mood for any of your divine maxims or 'golden rule' sort of crap right now!" He toweled off, trying to ignore the small trickle of blood flowing from the scrape. He grimaced at his reflection in the mirror contemptuously.

Gomer had almost finished when he turned his head to Duke, who'd sucked in his teeth sharply and gave a small yelp of pain. "What's wrong, Duke?"

"Stings," Duke muttered, holding the towel to his cut. "I wonder it I keep it there long enough, it'll staunch up."

Gomer opened his mouth, about to reply when he spotted Sergeant Brooks strolling their way. He quickly turned his attention back to his own hygiene.

"What are we, professional barbers? We're leaving in ten minutes with or without you! Get a move on!" Brooks continued walking down the rows of prepping troops, not even stopping as before.

"The more Sergeant Brooks throws us comments like that, the more I begin to share your opinion of him." Duke frowned and quickly continued drying off, forgetting his cut.

"C'mon, Duke. We got to hurry. You heard the Sergeant. We haven't even fixed over bedrolls yet!" Gomer hurriedly ran a comb through his hair, making sure the stray, floppy strands were tucked well away from his eyes. Then he carefully buckled his helmet on, pulling the strap so it fit snugly and didn't move around. Then he quickly policed his belongings, rolling them all into his poncho, which served as a bedroll. Tucking it all neatly away, he effortlessly slung the pack aside.

Gomer shrugged as he looked down at it. "Goll-ly! That really it?"

"Yeah, each of these things weigh about ninety pounds, no joke." Duke pushed his over to sit beside Gomer's. "At least we don't have to carry them around everywhere!" He said as he slowly bent over, picking up his canteen and rifle. He slung these over his shoulder.

Gomer finished fixing the bayonet on his rifle and gripped it tightly. "We're ready." At the same time, he closed his eyes and murmured a hasty prayer for the platoon's safety. This was the real thing and none of them had any idea what they were getting themselves into.

"Fall in!" Brooks shouted. Duke joined the sergeant at the front of the platoon while Gomer fell into file with the rest of the men. With that, the group marched into the misty jungle at precisely oh-six hundred.

-

Lieutenant Shrenk had been right. Nothing Gomer had done at Camp Henderson had prepared him for this!

Somewhere, there was fire and smoke and shouting. Ahead, the rest of the men in Gomer's platoon were scattered about, though they were so well concealed that he couldn't have spotted them if he'd tried. He ran swiftly across the ground, crouched lower than the brush surrounding him on each side. As soon as any bullet whizzed by uncomfortably close, he dropped quickly to the ground and lay still until he'd re-gathered his courage. Then it was back to running. His rifle lay immobile in his hands. He hadn't used it once since all pandemonium broke loose. He couldn't. His mind was frozen in utter terror. All he could seem to do was sprint, drop to the ground, and lay there mechanically.

It seemed as if he'd been doing this forever, with no inclination of it ever ending. He hastily pushed himself to his feet again, no longer feeling the weight of his troubled mind. He blindly pushed himself forward, running again through the jungle. This time, though, his sprint was short-lived. He'd only taken a few steps forward when an object lying in his path caused him to trip and fall flat on his face.

The jolt seemed to reawaken his brain from the numbness that had previously possessed it. He slowly propped himself up on his arms, turning around to see what had tripped him. He smiled when he saw it was only another Marine. "Oh, hey there!"

When the man didn't respond, Gomer shrugged and drew himself up to get a better look at his newfound companion. "You shouldn't be sleepin' on the job like this. Though I really cain't see how you can get any rest in all this racket. Don't you know we're bein' fired on?"

The man said nothing. He didn't even move an inch.

"You'd best get out of the way. An' if you promise to wake up soon, I won't report you. My name's Gomer Pyle, by the way. What's yours?"

Still nothing. As Gomer got closer, he could tell something was wrong with this Marine. His helmet was on at a crooked angle and the young man's lips were pursed in agony. His uniform lay rumpled and tattered over his still form. As Gomer felt his hand, he realized the man was cold, terribly cold. Gomer sucked in his breath. The man wasn't moving, wasn't saying anything _because he was dead. _A look at the gaping wound in the man's chest testified to that.

Gomer sat back beside the man, shocked. He almost couldn't believe it. The poor fellow…

He cautiously felt around the man's neck for his dogtags and gently pulled them out. He read the name engraved there in the metal:

'MOTLEY, Joseph K.'

He slowly turned it over and glanced at the serial number. Quietly, almost silently, he began to cry. He keenly felt the loss of Joseph Motley as one of the young man's friends and family would. He sat back and mourned the lost Marine's fate. Oblivious to all that was happening around him, he cried for a man he'd never known.

He didn't know how long he'd sat there. The spell was only broken by a heavy rain that began to fall. Sniffling, Gomer slowly hugged himself in an effort to keep warm. "I'll stay here with you, Joseph. Till I cain get help for you, that is. One Marine don't walk out on another, 'specially in his time of need. You're goin' home now, for good this time. An' all your family will get to see you again. You'll never…have to…come back," Gomer's voice quivered and broke as a new onslaught of tears hit him.

He sat by the still form and shivered, thinking only of getting the boy back to where he'd be seen to and shipped home. Not all the tears he shed that evening for the boy. The game was up, and Gomer could not avoid the truth any longer.


	11. In Love and War

**Chapter 11**

…_In Love and War_

"Slater!" Sergeant Brooks handed the letter down the line until it fell into Gomer's hands. He held the letter up to Duke's nose, turning the addressed side away from his friend.

Duke took a deep whiff of the perfume and thought for a few seconds. Finally, he nodded. "Definitely Maureen."

Gomer turned it over and raised his eyebrows as he discovered his friend was right. He quickly handed it to him though, as the sergeant barked out two more 'Slaters.'

He held each one under his friend's nose, one at a time. He allowed his friend time to take in their scent.

Duke inhaled deeply. "Patty…and Susan." He sighed happily.

"Right again!" Gomer handed them over and waited for the last two. They eventually made their way down the line and Gomer performed the same test on his friend.

Duke closed his eyes and smiled. "Those are easy. The first one's Julie, and the last one is Doris."

Gomer glanced to make sure they were right and handed them to Duke, shaking his head. He was just about to say something when he heard Brooks call "Slater!" once again.

He looked over at his friend. "Duke? I thought you said you only had five girlfriends."

Before the corporal could respond, the letter fell into Gomer's hands. He held it up triumphantly. "Aha! I bet you don't know who sent this one!"

Duke smelled it and grinned. "Of course I do. It's from Ha'ng."

"Ha'ng?" Gomer looked at the envelope and raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, it's Vietnamese for 'angel in the full moon.'" Duke colored and grabbed it out of his friend's hands. "Now give it here, will ya?"

Gomer shook his head. "I still think that's amazin', how you do that."

Duke shrugged and grinned. "What can I say? The old nose has still got it."

"Pyle!"

Gomer turned as the sergeant called his name. "Here I am!" He glanced at Duke excitedly. "It's from Lou Ann! I jus' know it!"

Duke held up his hands. "You can be content with your one measly little letter. But that won't make you the envy of the camp." He smiled and moved off, mail in hand. "Who else here gets _six _perfumed letters in one mail call? Six, I ask you!" He laughed as he went in search of some place to sit down and read them.

Gomer's hands trembled anxiously as his letter fell into his hands. This was the best day of the week, when the mail came! He smiled as he studied the front, recognizing Lou Ann's beautifully curved cursive. He slowly walked away and sat down on his helmet to read it.

**'12 November, 1969**

**Dear Gomer,**

**Bunny and I did as you said and made sure no kid in the neighborhood went without candy this Halloween. But, my dear, it's getting so awfully hard to move! You wouldn't even recognize me, should you see me now. Don't you worry, the baby is perfectly healthy. And just as anxious as I am! Our baby loves to kick! But it makes me happy and it don't hurt. I am not in any pain. We're only five months away, and I hope you'll be here when the time comes. We're already contemplating names, but none have sounded quite right as of yet. **

**Bunny, Sergeant Carter and I are already making preparations for the annual Marine Christmas Toy Drive. I know how you loved this event and the holiday season so. I'll be missing you. I hate the thought of us spending Christmas apart, but I'd rather have you here with me in March, when the baby's time comes. **

**I hope both you and Corporal Slater are safe. Each letter of yours helps in reassuring me of that. I pray you are not greatly changed, Gomer. It chills me even to think of it. Please say that I have been worrying over nothing at all and put my fears to rest!**

**Sergeant Carter and Bunny have taken care of me the way a hen would for her young. I wish you could be given the same loving attention, for you probably need it even more than I do. Please be careful. I should very much want to see you again soon, in one piece.**

**Sergeant Carter told me to tell you to get back to work and focus on your job instead of writing home all the time. He doesn't really mean it—he misses you as much as I do! Bunny wishes you Godspeed and the baby and I send all our love. Please write back soon.**

**Sincerely, **

**Lou Ann'**

**-**

**'27 November, 1969**

**Dear Lou Ann,**

**I am fine an perfectly healthy, though that's more'n I cain say for some of my friends. Private Winslow done got blowed up by a mine on recon yesterday. I really don't like Veeitnaam too well. No one's speshilly friendly, most of all Sargent Brooks. I had to rewrite this letter five times now because he keeps comin an tearin 'em up. Yesterday, I saw him kick away a starvin' dog we found in one of the villages an later on we found it was dead. Ain't that terrible? I cried all night. I jus cain't imagine anyone bein that cruel to jus a poor, innocent creetur. Even Sargent Brooks. I seem to get the feelin that he don't like any of us to think about anythin cept our job. Problem is, we ain't mechanical like troops like he'd want us to be. We're human beins, with thoughts an feelins an failins, jus like everone else. Sargent Carter understood that I miss him. Tell Sargent Carter Gomer says hey.**

**You're the only one I cain really talk to about what I'm goin through, cept for Duke. An he talks to girls most of the time on his breaks anyway. Don't worry about me, I'm always faithful to you, Lou Ann. I love you like no one else an I made a promise to love you forever. You're the only one for me.**

**Make sure you tell Sargent Carter an Kernal Grey to collect plenty of jacks. They was my favorite toy as a boy for good reason. Kids jus love 'em. I hope your weather there's good for the Christmas season, cause our weather here is jus plain rotten. It's so hot all the time an it jus rains for days on end. Ask Miss Bunny if Tipper's doin all right an ask Kernal Grey after Prince if you get a chance. Seein that dead dog yesterday has me worried about our dog friends back home. Silly, ain't it?**

**Well, I wouldn't say I've changed a whole lot. I don't think I've been sleepin too well, but maybe that's because I jus ain't used to sleepin on the ground all the time like we do out here. Have you ever had trouble sleepin on the ground? I try an try to get comfortable, but it's real hard, ain't it? So that's probly the reason for that. But I seen things out here that I wouldn't never repeat to nobody. Things that jus ain't to be talked of an shouldn't even exist in the first place. I miss you an I miss home an I cain't wait for March to come cause for me it cain't come soon enough.**

**Sincerely,**

**Gomer'**

**-**

**'7 December, 1969**

**Dear Gomer,**

**I'm glad to tell you that Tipper and Prince are both fine and couldn't be receiving better care from their owners. That sounds just like you to ask after the dogs! I am very relieved to hear you are not greatly altered. Please remember, my dear, not everyone is like Sergeant Brooks or your enemy troops that don't care about taking lives. May this letter testify to that!**

**The toy drive is well under way, and yes, we've gotten plenty of jacks, just for you. Colonel Grey is always complaining about missing his most diligent worker on the project, and by that he means you. And Sergeant Carter wouldn't want for you to know this, but…Corporal Boyle dropped in one day to tell me to tell you about your old sergeant. He's always having nightmares, and he's upset at how perfect his platoon is! In fact, he told Corporal Boyle the other day that 'would it be too much to ask if one of them messed something up once in a while?' He feels like he ain't doing his job! He misses you, Gomer. Even though he always yelled at you, it was with your best interests in mind. He was a true friend, and still is one to us. He still shares a strong kinship with you.**

**As for the weather, it's been dreary and cold. I almost wish I was going back to Turtle Creek where we have snow for Christmas. But I'd rather be here with Bunny and Sergeant Carter. And closer to you. Besides, Daddy doesn't know about the baby yet and I'm afraid what his reaction will be. For some reason, he just doesn't like you. But don't let that bother you, dear. His good opinion isn't worth the price of turning into Monroe Eeford. I hope and pray that day never comes! **

**I have included with my letter the most recent scans of the baby, taken at my last check-up. Isn't it really something now? And I think it just tapped out 'I love you' in Morse code against my belly. I send all the same. Please be careful and write to me soon!**

**Sincerely, **

**Lou Ann'**

**-**

**'15 December, 1969**

**Dear Lou Ann,**

**I'm glad you brought Turtle Creek up in your last letter. It reminded me of all my friends and family back in Mayberry! They all don't know our excitin' news yet. Please write to them and let them know for me. Be sure to write Granma an Granpa an Cousin Goober an Aunt Martha an Uncle Ralph. An don't forget Andy Taylor an his family! I ain't seen them since our weddin. That's a shame on my part. I ain't been keepin' in touch very good. I'd be much obliged if you do all the writin for me cause I'm havin enough trouble sendin letters out to you as it is without them bein torn up by Sargent Brooks.**

**Duke an I are still all right, which is mighty surprisin'. --------------------------------------- ------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ain't that terrible? Tell Sargent Carter Gomer says hey an be sure to give Miss Bunny a hug an tell her thank you, thank you, thank you! for me. I'm real happy that you an the little feller are all right. Make sure you two keep safe this Christmas. I love you both.**

**Sincerely, **

**Gomer'**

Lou Ann frowned and beckoned with her hand. "Bunny, cain you come here a minute?"

"What is it, dear?" Bunny hastened to her side and sat down beside her.

"Gomer's letter…why has part of it been blacked out?" She gently handed it over to her friend, alarmed and concerned.

"They censored it, that's all. You don't have to worry about a thing." Bunny glanced briefly at the thick black lines before handing it back, nodding decisively.

"Censored?" Lou Ann's gaze implored her friend for an explanation.

"Censored. All the mail leaving the military camps have to be read through before they're shipped out. Anything that gives away positions or maneuvers or anything that could be potentially harmful, should the mail fall into enemy hands, is blacked out."

At first, Lou Ann's eyes widened at the thought of strangers reading through her correspondence with Gomer. This was private stuff! Then she realized that they had a point, and were only doing their job. She relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief. "Oh, that's all. Gomer should know better than to share military stuff with me, anyway!" She slowly sat back against the couch, locking her arms together around her large stomach.

"How was the checkup this morning?" Bunny asked gently.

Lou Ann smiled. "Ever'thing's fine so far. The baby's vitals are good. He's got a healthy little heartbeat." Her fingers tapped the swollen skin and she giggled when the baby tapped back. "I'm in love with him already an' I don't even know him yet!"

"Well, we all can't wait to get to know him." Bunny took Lou Ann's hands and smiled. "You know what Vince told me the other night? He thought it would be a good idea to start taking classes so we'll know what to do when the baby arrives! Imagine! And we're not even the parents!"

Lou Ann laughed. "As Gomer would say, 'bless his heart!'" She turned her gaze on Bunny. "Could be so kind an' get me a pen an' a whole pack of stationary? I got a lot of letter writin' to do."

-

**'21 December, 1969**

**Dear Gomer,**

**I've sent out all the letters you requested, telling everyone our news. You should see the warehouse being used to store all the toys for the drive! Lester and Frankie are the ones guarding it day and night on the base, making sure no one breaks in and takes them. They told me they're doing it in tribute to you. Isn't that just wonderful of them? You have such thoughtful friends.**

**I enjoy reading your letters, as always. But, my dear, you must be more careful when you write them! There are certain things not fit for me to know! There are censors, Gomer. Please try to be a bit more tactful in your responses.**

**As for how I'm doing, I feel so forlorn and listless these days. Every day I get up and try to feel excited, but I can't. The thought of spending Christmas away from you is almost too much to bear! I know this isn't the way you'd like me to be, but everywhere I turn I'm reminded of you. It seems so lonesome and incomplete. I feel like I can only be made whole again by having you by my side.**

**In light of my disgraceful yearning, I've come up with something that may help us feel closer to each other, despite the miles that separate us. On Christmas day, look up at the moon at about twenty-one hundred your time. And, factoring in the time zone difference, I'll do the same at nineteen hundred here. We'll both be gazing at the same moon at the same time. **

**Colonel Grey has invited everyone who worked on the toy drive to a congratulatory celebration dinner on the twenty-fourth. Sergeant Hacker's in charge of the food, and he's preparing all of your favorites. After all, this is the first time in years you haven't been a major part of the toy drive. Yet you still have, in a sense. Everyone here misses you, Gomer. You'd be surprised at how many people you've touched. **

**The baby's still healthy and rambunctious as ever! As always, we both send all our love. Merry Christmas, darling.**

**Sincerely, **

**Lou Ann'**

Duke Slater was about to walk past his friend when he heard a sniffle come from that direction. He stopped and turned toward the lance corporal, who was sitting on his helmet alone. "Gomer?"

His head shot up at the name, and he tried a small smile. "Hey, Duke."

Slater ambled over and slowly sat down beside him. "Gomer, what's wrong? You look like you've been crying."

Gomer hung his head in shame. "I guess I kinda have. I'm glad Sergeant Carter cain't see me now. He's done told me an' told me again that real Marines don't cry. What have I been doin', ever since I got here? Cryin'."

"It's okay, buddy. Really. Now tell me. What's upsetting you like this?"

"I got Lou Ann's last letter…an'…an'…" Gomer trembled as he tried to get the words out.

Duke's eyes widened. "Oh, my gosh! The baby…?"

"No. Th-the little feller's fine." Gomer reassured him hastily. "But…Goll-ly, Duke. Why does it got to be so hard, spendin' Christmas away from your family like this?"

Duke relaxed. "Is that all?"

"It ain't nuthin' to be taken lightly, Duke! You should've read her letter! Pulled at me right here." Gomer tapped his heart sullenly. "She wrote me about ever'thing what's been goin' on without me, an' she writes again an' again about how she misses me like crazy!" He turned his sad gaze on his friend. "I'd give anythin' to be with her right now."

"Whoa, Gomer. Whatever you do, don't say that! Remember when Faust declared the same thing, it got him into nothing but trouble!"

"Huh?" Gomer cocked his head sideways in confusion.

"You know. _Faust. _The play?"

When he got no response, Duke frowned. "The book?"

Gomer still looked blank.

Duke shrugged in irritation. "_The Devil and Daniel Webster _with Edward Arnold!"

Recognition dawned on Gomer's countenance. "Oh! Why didn't you say so? Don't worry, Duke. I ain't at all like that poor farmer feller in the movie. I don't never make deals with the Devil."

"You just said you'd give anything." Duke pointed out.

"That's right," Gomer thought it over for a minute, then rephrased his statement. "I'd give anythin' _'cept _my soul to be with Lou Ann this Christmas." He smiled. "That any better?"

"Gomer, listen to me." Duke bore an intense gaze into his friend. "You gotta snap outta this lovesickness right now. I've seen other guys succumb to it out here. They get to wandering around like lost puppies, not thinking about anything. Just pining for home. Needless to say, they don't stick around too long after that. In the conditions we're living under, Gomer, you're liable to get yourself killed!"

At the word 'killed,' Gomer looked up at his friend, suddenly interested.

Duke continued quickly. "All it takes is for your mind to be wandering one minute, one second, one _instant, _even! And you could step on a mine or walk right into enemy fire. POW!" Gomer jumped as Duke clapped his hands together. "Then you'll be going home, all right. Lot of good you'll do Lou Ann and your kid by coming home dead."

"I think I see what you're gettin' at, Duke." Gomer said slowly. "I get to thinkin' so desperate-like an' I won't be able to concentrate on what I'm doin'! The one thing Lou Ann wants most 'sides havin' a healthy baby is for me to not get killed or blowed up."

"Exactly. You gotta focus. For her, your kid…everyone!" Duke patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"Thanks, Duke!" Gomer smiled. "What would I ever do without you here?"

As his friend raised his hands to clap them together again, Gomer put an arm out to stop it. "Never mind. I think I got the idear."

-

"May I take your coat, Mrs. Pyle?"

Lou Ann smiled up at her escort and held the wrap out to him. "You may. An' please, call me Lou Ann, Corporal Boyle."

Boyle shrugged and took it, smiling. "Excuse me for a minute."

Lou Ann looked about her and out at the starry night from the windows of Colonel Grey's house, located on Camp Henderson's base. As Sergeant Carter had brought Bunny, Lou Ann thought it very thoughtful of the corporal to offer himself as her escort for the party. She patted Prince absent-mindedly after hearing him padding up beside her. She hadn't received any more letters from Gomer and knew she wouldn't until after Christmas. She'd have to trust that he was all right. A pang shot through her as she imagined him, lying somewhere in the jungle…and she wouldn't even know until after Christmas. She violently shook her head, shooing the unwelcome images from her mind. She couldn't think like that! Gomer must first be alive in her heart if he was to remain alive in reality.

Corporal Boyle hastened back to her side. "You okay, Lou Ann?"

She smiled up at him and placed a small hand on his arm. "As well as cain be under the circumstances, Corporal Boyle."

He shook his head and laughed. "Every bit a charming lady."

"Actually, I was quite the belle, growin' up in Turtle Creek." Lou Ann blushed. "I'd completely forgotten about those days. I had ever' boy in the county at my feet. Includin' Monroe, an' ever' girl my age was in love with him." She shook her head. "But none of them were like Gomer. He's a very special type of person, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Boyle answered vaguely. Carter had warned him before taking Lou Ann out to not bring up her husband that evening, for fear it would make her miss him even more. Looking at her, Boyle couldn't see it. She had that sort of inner strength she called upon to help her deal with everything she was going through. It seemed to him that she held her head up defiantly, despite all that dared to challenge her. A twentieth century Scarlett O'Hara. But he wasn't about to disobey the sarge's orders.

Lou Ann smiled and continued. "He was the first real gentleman I've come across, one who knows how to treat a lady right an' proper. An' he's honest with me, even if it might be somethin' hurtful. He jus' cares that much. An' he don' try to be macho or try to prove 'men are superior' or somethin'. He's jus'…sweet, an' fun to be around. You never cain have a borin' conversation with Gomer." Her gaze took on a loving, faraway look. "He gets so excited-like about things, an' those big brown eyes of his jus' light up! His eyes give me shivers ever' time I look into 'em. He's jus' full of the nicest surprises! An' he always does the right thing, or at least ties to. He's jus' kind an' considerate an' well-mannered…he's the most carin' person I ever met!"

Corporal Boyle coughed uncomfortably, bringing Lou Ann out of her reverie.

"Oh! Corporal Boyle, I'm sorry! I got so carried away…" Lou Ann turned red with embarrassment, remembering some of the things she'd just said. When would she ever learn to keep her mouth shut like a proper lady?

"It's all right, Lou Ann. You had perfect reason to go on. After all, we're here holding a party practically for your husband and he's halfway around the world…"

"Yes. How terribly silly of me. Please excuse my loss of reticence, Corporal Boyle. I promise it will not happen again." Lou Ann smiled once again at her escort. "Now. Shall we enjoy the rest of this evenin'?"

They dined with Colonel Grey and his family, who steadily kept the topic of conversation on the toy drive for the duration of the entire meal. For that, Lou Ann was grateful. She tried not to think so much about what she was eating as she listened to the remarks made at the table. She couldn't help but feel that Gomer and thousands of other poor boys over there were probably pining for a good meal, while she sat here eating all of Gomer's favorite dishes.

She heard another guest across the room mention the massive protest march at D.C. and her head popped up. She didn't like the thought of Gomer or anyone else being over there as much as the next person. But it seemed she was caught in the middle of truly terrifying times. Protests were turning violent. Several of America's leaders had been assassinated in recent years by their own countrymen. And now, ever since news of My Lai had leaked out, the protestors were beginning to turn their wrath on the troops. Lou Ann teared up at the very thought of it. Gomer was the innocent victim of all this hate. She'd stand up and support him and his comrades, even if it meant risking her own neck. After all, it was the least that she could do.

She looked over at a different corner where two men unknown to her were having a heated discussion.

"…wasn't all that long ago, the papers were talking about that man coming back from the moon, remember?"

"What are you talking about? That whole 'moon landing' was a gag! Couldn't you see it was all done on one of them Hollywood sets?…"

Lou Ann covered her mouth to hide a giggle and felt a tiny kick from her stomach. She gazed lovingly down at her distended belly. "Did you think it was funny, too?" she cooed, gently tickling the tight surface. The baby kicked back, causing her to sigh happily. Her baby was the cutest little thing, and she didn't even know what it looked like yet!

Soon, only she and Corporal Boyle were left at the tables as the rest of the party took to the dance floor. It was the general consensus that Lou Ann was in no condition to dance, and she didn't want to do anything that could potentially jeopardize the baby's health, anyway.

"You must be feeling pretty excited." Corporal Boyle nodded to his charge, knowing she'd understand what he meant.

Lou Ann smiled. "Believe me, Corporal Boyle, three more months is _too _long!"

He shook his head. "It sure is creeping up on us now, isn't it? Seems like it was just yesterday that I heard the news."

Lou Ann raised her eyebrows ruefully. "When you're the expectant parent, time jus' drags by. Especially since the day I got word from the doctor was the last day I saw Gomer."

Boyle's eyes widened at the wrong turn their conversation had taken. He hastily cleared his throat. "Uh…has the doctor given you a date yet?"

"He said it could happen any time the week of the eighteenth." Lou Ann gently rubbed her stomach. "So that's when Gomer plans on takin' his leave."

Boyle nodded. His plan having backfired, he decided to try an altogether different tack. "What are your plans this Christmas?"

Lou Ann sighed heavily. "I guess I'll be spendin' it with the Carters this year. Now, please don't mistake me. I'm sure I'll have a wonderful time, an' Bunny and Sergeant Carter are two of my very closest friends…but I still wish I could spend my first Christmas as a married woman with my husband."

"Understandable." Boyle shrugged and tried again. "I'll probably go and spend mine with my sister and her two kids. Now, I'm from the Midwest. Perhaps you could enlighten me on the Southern Christmas traditions."

Lou Ann laughed. "I should think it's much the way anyone else in the country spends it. Back in Turtle Creek, we'd used to have this big family gatherin'. I'd get up real early, an' run down to see what was left in my stocking. Then my grandparents an' aunts an' uncles an' cousins would all come over an' visit while breakfast got ready. We'd get to catch up on each other an' have a good time. An' then there was a breakfast like you couldn't imagine! All the trimmins! An' the kids had to eat till they were stuffed if they wanted any Christmas candy later on.

She smiled, replaying all the fond memories in her mind's eye. "Then we'd all exchange presents an' visit some more. An' the kids would all play with their toys. Then we'd wait till the evenin', when we had Christmas dinner, which made the breakfast look tiny! Then we'd all drift out to where the instruments were laid out an' start playin' an' carolin' together. You never cain have Christmas without carols, you know. We'd all stand, gathered round that ol' grand piano an' sang our hearts out, glad of each other's company."

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she blinked rapidly to get rid of them. "Then we all sorta broke off into groups. The cousins would go play, an' the men would go off an' play cards while all the women swapped recipes. Then we'd all bundle up an' sit round the fire, talkin' about who's ailin', who's better, who's gettin' married, who's havin' a baby, all that sort of neighbor talk. I was always up to the wee hours of the mornin'. Most of the time, I fell asleep right in front of that fire, feelin' so warm an' safe. Thinkin' how Christmas was always the very best day of the year…" She closed her eyes as her heart constricted with pain. "I guess that's why I miss Gomer so much right now. Christmas has always been about family, an' well…we _are _a family now!"

"Really means something to you, huh?" Boyle asked quietly.

"Uh-huh," Lou Ann sniffed, quickly composing herself once again. "I am so very sorry, Corporal Boyle. There I go gettin' carried away again. You set me to reminiscin' an' I jus' open up like a floodgate! What ever are you goin' to do with me?" She smiled innocently at the corporal, who laughed.

"Tie you up and throw you in the cellar." He replied. "But seriously, I'll tell you what I'm gonna have to do. I'll have to stop trying to steer the conversation away from Pyle. There's just no getting around him when it comes to you!"

"Actually, bringin' him up helps me deal with him bein' so far away. It makes me somehow feel closer to him, rememberin' him when I talk about him. Of course, I'm still awful heartbroke about it. An' I still miss him like crazy! But thinkin' an' talkin' about him makes him seem like he really is here. At least, in my mind, he is." Lou Ann looked down. "You prob'ly think that's silly, don't you?"

Boyle slowly shook his head. "It makes perfect sense." He put down his napkin and glanced over at Sergeant Carter, who gave him a conspiratorial nod. "Lou Ann? The Sarge and I have arranged…that is…there's someone here we brought to see you…"

Lou Ann bolted to her feet unsteadily, her heart in her mouth. It couldn't be! She gripped the table with white knuckles, holding her breath unsteadily.

The door flew open and two figures ran toward her happily. "Lou Ann! We came as soon as we heard!"

She relaxed and smiled as she went to meet them. "Oh…Mr. an' Mrs. Pyle."

"Please, Lou Ann. It's Gran'ma an' Gran'pa now. You're a Pyle too, you know!" Gran'ma Pyle greeted her warmly with a hug. She held her back to study the girl appraisingly. "Look how big our great-grandbaby is!"

"Why in tarnation didn't you write us sooner?" Grandpa Pyle clapped her soundly on the back before looking down at the tiny young woman. "Baby Gomer's almost as big as you now!"

"I'm so sorry I forgot to write, what with the baby an' Gomer bein' overseas an' all…" Lou Ann gave them both an apologetic smile. "It jus' completely slipped my mind!"

"It's all right, darlin'. I know how you're feelin'." Grandma Pyle patted Lou Ann's shoulder sympathetically. "Ever' time I think of my grandbaby bein' over in that hellhole, I…"

"Momer! Watch your tongue!" Otis admonished his wife sternly.

"Well, that's what it is, ain't it?" Grandma Pyle frowned up at him indignantly before turning back to Lou Ann. "What they print in the papers nowadays about the war is real frightenin'! An' some people are pointin' fingers at the enlisted men! How is it Gomer's fault, I ask you?"

"I don't know." Lou Ann shook her head slowly. "I think it's real gallant of him." She looked up at her grandfather-in-law. "You'd be real proud of him, Gran'pa Pyle. Jus' wait till we get home an' I show you some of his letters."

"Oh, you don't have to show us Gomer's letters. I'm already mighty proud of that boy."

"Well, if she wants to show us, then she should show us," Grandma Pyle intervened hastily. "That is, as long as they ain't too private."

"Not at all!" Lou Ann smiled. "Gomer writes a fine letter. An' I'll have to show you all the pitchers of the baby…"

"They cain do that now?" Grandma Pyle looked at her incredulously before turning to her husband. "Otis, ain't that somethin'? Pitchers of the baby 'fore it's even borned! Jus' wait till Marther hears about this…"

Lou Ann broke away from them a minute to give Corporal Boyle, Bunny, and Sergeant Carter each a hug. "Thank you! It's the most wonderful Christmas present I could ever ask for!"

"Well…nothing's too good for the wife of one of my men, after all." Sergeant Carter blustered importantly. "I figured, if Lance Corporal Pyle couldn't be with you this Christmas, why not his grandparents?"

Lou Ann was so grateful, she kissed his cheek, causing the sergeant to turn a bright shade of crimson.

-

The next day, Grandma Pyle fawned over the photograph of Gomer and Duke that Lou Ann showed her. "He really is over there!" she cried, as if the reality of it all had only just dawned on her.

Lou Ann smiled lovingly down at the figure in the picture and shook her head. "Ain't he handsome, though?"

Otis Pyle stood over the ladies' shoulders to peer at the photo and swelled with pride. "That—now that there's a Pyle! He looks six foot!" His eyes slid over to the figure standing next to his grandson and his brow furrowed. "Who's that other feller there with him?"

"Corporal Duke Slater, sir. Another man originally from my platoon." Carter spoke up crossly from where he sat on the floor. He'd been very reluctant to don the Santa suit Bunny had laid out for him that morning and the tiff had soon escalated into full-out war. Guess who came out the victor?

Bunny smiled thinly in her husband's direction from where she sat on a chair, Tipper relaxing in her lap. She stroked the dog gently. "Now Vince, behave yourself."

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered, seething with jealousy for the dog. If she'd wanted someone to play Santa so bad, she should've stuck the beard and hat on their dog! "Oh, no, Vince! Tipper would be miserable if he spent all day in _that!" _She'd protested. _Honestly, sometimes I think she treats that dog better than she treats _me! He thought in frustration.

"Duke! I cain 'member Gomer introducin' us at the weddin'! Such a nice young man," Grandma Pyle declared.

"That's right. He was the best man." Lou Ann nodded.

"Gomer's friend. Seemed to me like a real fine feller." Grandpa Pyle added.

"A womanizer, more like." Carter murmured, tugging at his itchy white beard.

"What did you say?" Otis's head shot up in the sergeant's direction.

As Carter was about to repeat his sentiment, Bunny raised her foot and delivered him a swift kick.

"OW! You don't have to get nasty, here!" Carter rubbed his rear end, his pride wounded more than anything else.

"Go on, Vince. What did you say?" Bunny smiled sweetly.

"Uh…I said, 'a good socializer, he's like.'" Carter feigned a smile at Grandpa Pyle before shooting his wife a murderous look.

"Oh, dear!" Grandma Pyle tut-tutted condescendingly. "Then he's over in that war, too."

Lou Ann nodded. "I'm afraid so."

Grandma Pyle shook her head. "It ain't right, it jus' ain't right." She sighed. "This truly is a gentleman's war."

"Gentleman's war?!" Sergeant Carter exclaimed indignantly, while everyone else turned to stare at Grandma Pyle.

"Naturally." She replied. "Those boys have nuthin' to gain an' ever'thing to lose! It ain't their fight, but yet they're willin' to risk ever'thing in the name of duty an' honor. You see, it _is _a gentleman's war."

The rest of the party sat back thoughtfully. Sergeant Carter shook his head. "I never considered it like _that _before!"

Lou Ann nodded and turned to him. "Sergeant Carter, could you please oblige me with the time?"

Carter pushed up his red sleeve irritably and glanced at his watch. "Three shy of nineteen hundred."

"Could you all excuse me for a minute? I jus' remembered somethin' I have to do."

"Certainly." Bunny smiled and shooed her out encouragingly. Lou Ann put aside the various infant articles she'd received as presents and tread slowly back to the master bedroom.

She drew back the curtains and slowly opened the window, gazing out into the still night sky. Its simplicity awed her. Nothing graced the dark canvas except the full ethereal glow of the moon. She leaned against the sill and sighed, her eyes trained on the enchanting celestial body. She shivered as she thought of Gomer doing the very same thing, half a world away. She was suddenly filled with such longing for her husband that she feared she would cry out. She checked herself and upturned her sweet countenance to the orb, which condescendingly bathed her features in moonlight. _I miss you, Gomer…_

_-_

_I miss you, Lou Ann…_

Gomer held his rifle close to him, gazing into the seemingly endless depths of the moon in the sky above him. He stood in the quiet evening of the camp, thinking about his wife and wondering how she was faring that night. Oh, if he could only see her again!

_I've done made it six months now, an' that's over halfway…three more, jus' three more!_

He dared not tear his gaze from the moon, thinking about how hopefully Lou Ann would be looking up into it right now. So close, yet so far away…it tore at Gomer's heart. He wished he could be with her now.

He slowly looked down and began once again to march his rounds as one of the guards on patrol for that evening. _This won't do at all! _He thought dismally. He just had to focus. He had to forget! It wouldn't be easy, but he _had _to, if he wanted to go home safe and sound.

_Lot of good you'll do Lou Ann and your kid by coming home dead._

"I know, Duke, I know! I'm tryin', honest I am!"

"Well, try a little harder, will ya? His friend's voice grumbled.

"It jus' ain't that easy! You gotta give me time but I will, I promise! Real fast!"

"Yeah, sure. In the morning, huh?"

"Tomorrow mornin' suits me fine cause tonight was the only real problem. You know how tonight's Christmas, an' it's understandable for a feller to miss his family on Christmas, ain't it?"

"Gomer…who're you talking to?"

He whirled around to see Duke sitting up from his bedroll on the ground, yawning sleepily. "Hey, Duke. Funny thing jus' happened to me. You know what you…"

"Let me guess. Voices again?"

Gomer slowly nodded.

Duke rolled his eyes. "I woke up for _that? _Oh, for the love of God!" He quickly laid back down and turned on his side in search of rest.

Gomer shook his head and quietly continued his rounds. With renewed conviction, his mind focused on the task at hand. And it remained so, home being the farthest thing from the Marine's mind.


	12. Back to the World

**Chapter 12**

_Back to the World_

Lou Ann hurriedly tore open Gomer's letter from its envelope, eager to know its contents. Bunny sat beside her as she had every day for the past three weeks or so. She breathlessly unfolded the note and held it up.

**'28 February, 1970**

**Dear Lou Ann,**

**I am coming home to you…'**

A cry escaped the expectant mother as tears flooded her eyes. "He's comin' home! He's comin' home! Oh, Bunny, he's comin' home!" She enveloped her friend in a hug, crying tears of joy.

"Honey, that's wonderful!" Bunny gently patted her back. Pulling out a tissue, she handed it over. "Come now. You've known this for a while."

"I thought the day would never come…" Lou Ann teared up as she thought of when she'd bade him goodbye eight and a half months ago. It had seemed like a lifetime. She sobbed and blew her nose. "He-he's really c-comin' home!"

"Of course he is." Bunny replied soothingly. Lou Ann had been edgy these past few weeks, especially since she'd gotten so huge that it looked like she could drop her baby any time now! Bunny had soon discovered it was best to just humor her.

She picked up Lou Ann's hand that still clutched the letter. "You haven't even read the whole thing yet." She smiled reassuringly and prodded her on.

Lou Ann nodded and turned her wet face back to the letter.

**'….on a week's leave from March 15-21. This is when you said the baby was due, ain't it? Sargent Brooks was real understandin', speshilly since my second tour of duty will be startin in the summer. I think he knows I don't like him too well. I won't write to tell you how I'm feelin about that. I'd much rather discuss it in person.**

**I'm anxious to see home an Sargent Carter an Miss Bunny an Corporal Boyle an Lester an Frankie an Colonel Grey an Camp Henderson…but most of all, I can't wait to see you. My plane arrives at 0700 at the airport Sunday mornin'. I hope to see you there.**

**Sincerely, **

**Gomer'**

A wave of ecstasy consumed Lou Ann as she pressed the letter to her lips. _'I am coming home to you…I am coming home to you…' _"Oh, Gomer! I cain't wait for Sunday!"

Bunny watched her happily, then frowned slightly as she noticed a change come over her friend.

"Oh, no…Bunny, he's comin' on Sunday!" She exclaimed in horror.

"I thought you said you were happy!"

"I was, but…oh, Bunny. It's been so long. What if he's changed? That war over there is terrible! An' it's in all the war pitchers, how the wife faithfully says goodbye to her wonderful husband an' then he comes home, an' she realizes he's dif'rent, he's not as wonderful as she remembered him to be." She bit her lip in fright. "What if he don't care much for me anymore?"

"Lou Ann, this is silly! Gomer loves you! Didn't he say so in his letter?" Bunny picked up the paper and quickly scanned over the words. She pointed triumphantly. "See? He wrote, 'I can't wait to see you.'"

"So? That's the first letter he's writ where he didn't out an' out say he loved me!" Lou Ann cried.

"You don't have to have him write it to believe it, do you? You know how that sergeant of his is, always wanting the men to be soldiers and not wasting time with letters to home. He just wanted to make it short, especially since he's going to be seeing you in only three days, anyway."

"He's gonna hardly recognize me, let alone want anythin' to do with me! I know it!" Lou Ann pouted.

Bunny sighed in exasperation. "Please, Lou Ann, don't be a ninny!"

"Look how huge I am! I ain't purdy at all anymore!" Lou Ann cried in distress.

"You're plenty pretty! And Gomer's going to be thrilled more than anything to see how the baby's grown!" Bunny gently patted her knee. "You'd better get ready for his homecoming. I can have the in-laws come over and stay at our place while he's visiting so you two can have some privacy."

Lou Ann nodded absently. Currently, Grandma and Grandpa Pyle were staying in the unfurnished guest room of their apartment. Whenever a Southerner took the trouble to pack his bags and travel a long distance for the sake of a visit, he usually stayed for months. And Grandma and Grandpa Pyle would not be satisfied until they could go home saying they were great-grandparents to a healthy infant child.

Lou Ann still had her doubts. She sighed sadly. "He's changed. I know he has."

Despite all of Bunny's comforts, Mrs. Pyle could not help but feel that the man she'd reluctantly sent off to Vietnam so long ago was gone forever.

-

Gomer twisted his hands in his lap, anxiously waiting for his plane to land. He tugged at the collar of his khaki uniform and gulped. He didn't know why, but for some reason, he was nervous about the long-anticipated reunion. He'd been away for so long. Had things changed while he was gone? Would things be different between him and Lou Ann? He sat back against the seat and moaned softly. Well, he'd know soon enough, wouldn't he?

Lou Ann stood anxiously at the terminal, glancing at the people emerging from its depths in concern. She'd convinced everyone to let her come alone. Meeting up with him again was going to be hard enough as it was for the both of them without having to deal with someone else there to pay witness to it.

_Well, I'm not entirely alone, _Lou Ann smiled down at her large stomach just as the baby gave a sound kick. _I hope he loves you jus' as much as I do, little one._

She checked the board again to make sure his flight wasn't late, then turned and glanced at her reflection in a piece of glass paneling. She smoothed her hair and forced a smile. She wasn't near as pretty as she used to be. She hoped she wouldn't be a disappointment for Gomer.

She shivered and hugged herself tightly. It was the middle of March and the airport was already running the air conditioning! She glanced around at the other people standing close to her. They didn't seem at all bothered by the room temperature. They wore not coats, but sport jackets. As they hung around the terminal, they didn't say a word to Lou Ann. They only checked their watches and impatiently fiddled with their luggage, waiting for their flights to be called.

Flight 2297 now unboarding. Flight 2297 now unboarding." The loudspeaker announced.

Lou Ann ceased to move, her heart leaping into her throat. That was Gomer's flight! She dreaded seeing him for fear he had changed, yet at the same time she knew she had to see him or else she'd go mad!

She shivered, this time not from the cold. She'd gone through all the letters Gomer had sent her and came up feeling even more sure than ever that Gomer's war experiences had changed him. She felt again like she was going to cry. Why didn't he show up already and get it over with?

"Lou Ann!"

She looked up. That had been his voice. She'd know it anywhere! She glanced at the terminal, but couldn't find him among the masses. "Gomer?" she called tentatively.

"Lou Ann!" Gomer waved his arm wildly, dashing toward her as soon as he was free of the crowd.

"Gomer!" All thoughts fled Lou Ann's mind as she caught sight of her husband, moving toward him as quickly as she could.

"Lou Ann!" He shouted again, happy just to see her once more. He threw his bag down on the floor continued his mad flight toward her, causing the person behind him to trip and fall over the cast-aside luggage.

"Gomer!" Lou Ann cried, jumping into his arms as they met on the terminal. She hugged him fiercely, clasping his hair as she leaned her head against his. She cried silently, too overwhelmed for words.

Gomer held her up, gripping her tightly. He inhaled her perfume and unsuccessfully tried to blink back his tears.

They trembled as they cried softly in each other's embrace. It had been a long nine months. Some onlookers smiled while others scowled at their touching reunion on the terminal.

When Lou Ann turned her head to get a look at Gomer's face, she found her staring into the depths of his soft brown eyes. She didn't hold it for long as she kissed him, again and again and again. When she was spent she leaned against him, emotionally drained and breathing hard.

"Shazaam!" Gomer murmured hoarsely in reply.

Lou Ann choked up. "Oh, Gomer! You haven't changed a bit!" she cried, burying her head against his chest.

Gomer looked down at Lou Ann's larger-than-life middle and smiled. "You got big." He sniffed.

"Oh, Gomer! I…" Lou Ann's voice trailed off as she was slowly lowered back down to the ground. "My, how strong you've gotten! An' you're so tan!" She reached up and gently brushed his cheek.

Gomer shrugged and grinned. "I guess I kinder am. You see, it's awful hot over there in Vietnaam. An' it ain't easy work I gotta do ever' day. A lot harder than the base trainin'. Duke an' I got tougher real fast."

Lou Ann smiled up at him, then sobered a little. "Gomer, cain I ask you a question?"

"What is it, darlin'?" Gomer gazed down at her imploringly, slipping his hands over hers.

"Do you still think I'm purdy?" She closed her eyes and braced herself for his answer.

Gomer smiled lovingly and shook his hand. "Goll-ly, Lou Ann. You're jus' about the purdiest I ever did see you."

She brightened. "You really mean that?"

"Uh-huh," Gomer slowly leaned toward her and gave her a gentle kiss. Lou Ann felt so happy she could burst as she kissed him back.

"Gomer," she whispered in his ear, "I'm so glad you're here. The baby is the most adorable thing, an' he isn't even here yet!" She smiled and stepped away for her husband to admire. "I jus' know you'll love 'em, won't you?"

"Of course I do!" Gomer glanced at her stomach sideways. "Ain't that funny? There really is somethin' growin' inside you like!"

"You wanna feel?" At Gomer's embarrassed look, Lou Ann gently picked up his hands. "It's okay, Gomer. Really, it ain't at all improprietary."

"But all these people…" Gomer looked about the crowded terminal nervously.

Lou Ann smiled. "They've all seen a pregnant woman before, an' it's perfectly natural to be feelin' the baby when it's this big!" She winked at him slyly. "Besides, I got a feelin' that my tummy won't be this large for very long."

Gomer shrugged. "Well…if you say so."

Lou Ann carefully placed Gomer's hands on the gigantic mound of her stomach. She laughed as he felt how tightly the skin was, and rapped against it gently. He suddenly jumped back. "Lou Ann, there's somethin' alive in there!"

She laughed and shook her head, happy to still have her sweet, innocent Gomer. "That was the baby kickin'. Our baby has a delightful sense of humor. You tap somethin' to 'em, an' he'll tap back!"

Gomer frowned. "Don't that hurt?"

"No. I feel it, but it ain't hurtful." Lou Ann smiled and beckoned to him. "Come on. Get acquainted with our baby."

Gomer gently brushed his fingers against the part of Lou Ann's coat that jutted out far and away from the rest of herself. "Hey there, little feller. It's…" Gomer swallowed and continued, "it's Daddy. Last time I saw you, you was jus' a little spot. Now look what you done. You done growed up on me." Tears graced the corners of his eyes as he laughed at the baby's response. "It talked back to me!"

"I think our baby like you a lot." Lou Ann smiled and held his arm. "An' I love you a lot."

They shared another quiet moment as they exchanged a soft kiss. Lou Ann's small hand delicately held Gomer's bronzed cheek as he hugged her torso as close as the baby would allow. They leaned against each other happily. Lou Ann felt so complete now that Gomer was back at her side. She gripped him tighter. He was finally safe, back in her arms again. How she'd missed him so!

Gomer nuzzled her hair. "Goll-ly, Lou Ann," he sighed and held her against him blissfully. It wasn't until now, that he had her back in his grasp, that he realized how deeply he'd missed her. "I love you," he murmured in her ear.

"Gomer!" Lou Ann cried, burying herself against the stiff folds of her husband's uniform. Those were the words she'd been waiting to hear. She waited until her well of tears had dried and she had regained control enough to look up into Gomer's face. She smiled ruefully. "I guess we better get movin'. After all, we don't wanna spend your entire leave in an airport, now, do we?"

"No, I…I guess not." Gomer sniffed and started searching the ground at his feet. "If I could only find my bag, I…"

He stopped short as he came face to face with the angry old man who'd tripped over it, holding the bag out to him accusingly.

-

Gomer was surprised, nonetheless, to see his grandparents greet him along with Bunny when he walked into Lou Ann's apartment.

"Gran'ma! Gran'pa! What're you doin' here?" He cried as he rushed forward to meet them.

"My baby!" Grandma Pyle had exclaimed upon seeing him. As she ran into his arms, he scooped her up and whirled her about the room before setting her back down.

"Land sakes alive, boy! What are you tryin' to do? Give me a aneurysm?"

"You've gotten strong, son." Otis Pyle nodded approvingly.

"Why, he carried me all four flights of stairs up here, an' I've picked up thirty-five pounds cause of the baby!" Lou Ann declared.

"Lou Ann…" Gomer blushed, shuffling his feet.

"An' it was very noble of you, 'specially since they haven't fixed that elevator yet." Lou Ann reached up to dab at his face with her handkerchief while she simultaneously removed his hat and tie.

"When did you two come out here?" Gomer asked his grandmother while his wife fussed over him.

"We flew out for Christmas!" She replied matter-of-factly. Gomer nodded, the long stay not unusual to him in the least.

"An' we promised ever'one we wouldn't come home without pitchers of our great-grandbaby!" Grandpa Pyle declared.

"How is ever'one back home?" Gomer asked eagerly before turning back to Lou Ann. "Why didn't you write me about this?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise." Lou Ann's eyes danced mischievously before disappearing into the kitchen.

She laughed and started readying dinner alongside Bunny. "Oh, my land. Better let me do the peelin' an' such. I am still at least capable of _that!"_

Bunny smiled and consented to her help in the kitchen. She'd never seen Lou Ann so vivacious since she became pregnant! Gomer being home created such a considerable difference in her! Her happiness rubbed off on Bunny as she started to fix the meal.

They listened quietly to the 'back home' gossip Gomer's grandparents were catching him up on. Lou Ann sighed happily from time to time, confirming what Bunny knew to be a wife's joy over her soldier's return.

After a while, the preparations were finally underway. Lou Ann stood in front of the stove, one hand over her large stomach while the other stirred a broiling soup. Bunny wiped floury hands on a dishrag as she set the bread pan in the oven and fixed the timer.

Suddenly, a head appeared at Lou Ann's shoulder as her eyes suddenly became shaded by darkness. "Guess who?"

"Gomer, you silly thing!" Lou Ann lifted her spoon out of the pot to assist in removing his hands from her face. Gomer took the opportunity to taste the soup she held out to him.

"Mmm-mmm!" He declared, holding her close.

Lou Ann laughed. "Oh, really, Gomer! You little sneak!" She turned her head to face him and kissed him lovingly.

"Ahem."

The two suddenly became aware of Bunny watching them from under hooded eyelids as she prepared the potatoes. Lou Ann placed her hands on Gomer's shoulders, trying vainly to sober her elated mood as she looked up into his eyes. "Well, to what do I owe this visit, Lance Corporal Pyle?"

"Is it to terrible for me to want to see my family?" Gomer smiled softly.

Lou Ann batted her eyelashes playfully. "Well, that's awfully sweet of you, Gomer. But the kitchen is hardly a place for banter. We cain sit an' have a nice, long tête-à-tête later, if you'd like."

"I'd like that fine." Gomer kissed the top of her head. "But I gotta tell you somethin'. You actually ain't the reason I came in here at all." He turned to Bunny. "What I wanted to ask you, Miss Bunny, is where Sergeant Carter's gone to?"

Bunny smiled as Tipper bounded into the kitchen and jumped up on Gomer. "He called earlier to say a detail came up at the last minute back at the base but he'd be here in time for dinner."

"Hey there, buddy! I missed you, too!" Gomer laughed as the dog's pink tongue sneaked out to lick his face.

Just then, the door clicked and Sergeant Carter's voice could be heard bellowing from the sitting room. "Well, well, well! What's all the fuss about here? What's going on, huh?"

"Sergeant Carter!" Gomer cried, bounding out to meet him. "Sergeant Carter, I'm home!"

Carter's mouth twitched, trying to hide his amusement with a stern expression as the Marine ran up to him. The young man slid to a stop two feet away from the sergeant, grinning as he sloppily saluted him.

"Cut that out, Pyle! If you're going to salute me, you'd better do it right! Do you ever give me that stupid smile when you salute me?"

"Well, no sir, but…"

"I CAN"T HEEAR YOU!"

"No, sir!"

"Then wipe that goofy grin off your face! Put those feet together, straighten up! Keep those pockets buttoned, you're a Marine! And the salute should be neat and sharp, your upper arm parallel to the ground. All fingers of the hand should be together, your arms positioned at an approximate forty-five degree angle. And you will hold that position until I return it! Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Gomer replied, his face stony as he properly saluted his sergeant.

Carter quickly returned it. "At ease."

As Gomer did as he was told, Carter shook his head. "Send a boy to Vietnam and he loses all sense of basic training."

Grandma and Grandpa Pyle applauded this scene from the couch.

"Nice work, Carter!" Otis Pyle exclaimed. "I cain see why Gomer's always tellin' us what a great sergeant you are!"

"Well…" Sergeant Carter blustered as he stepped around Pyle to chat with the man's grandparents. "I haven't been a Marine for twenty-four years for nothing, you know."

"I'm awful glad you came here to talk with him, Sergeant. Gomer's jus' jumpin' at the bit, so anxious to see you ever since he come home! It's jus' been 'Sergeant Carter this,' an' 'Sergeant Carter that.' Now he finally gets the chance to talk to you after all these months abroad." Grandma Pyle smiled, though she looked in concern over in Gomer's direction. She needed to speak with her grandson as soon as possible. She had a bad feeling in her bones, and she needed to talk with him about it fast.

"I can safely say, ma'am, that I've always prided myself on turning out efficient, diligent and top-rate recruits. But your son has to be the most conscientious Marine I've ever trained!" Carter laughed.

"An' Gomer's made it real well, ain't he?" Otis added.

Carter hid a grimace. As much as he hated to admit it, he was intimidated by the towering frame and severe-looking brow of Pyle's grandfather. He quickly cast about for a suitable answer. "Other than some downright clumsiness, fantastical notions, a habit for letting his emotions get in the way, storing non-regulation items in his footlocker, and sneaking various animals such as a girl, a skunk, a crow, an expectant cat, a baby, and a horse onto the base, he couldn't possibly be a better Marine."

He held his breath until Grandpa Pyle nodded approvingly. "That's my boy!"

"What sort of errand took you so long? Supper's almost ready." Grandma Pyle smiled expectantly at the sergeant.

"It wasn't exactly an errand, Mrs. Pyle. In the Corps, we like to refer to them as 'details.' I had to, uh, run down to the airport and pick someone up at the Colonel's orders."

"An important government person?"

"Important, yes. Very important."

"I bet it was one of them K-mans, jus' like in the movies!" She declared excitedly.

"That's a G-man, Momer. Kayman's the feller who gives away prizes ever' week on _Millikin's Chicken Mash Hour."_

"G-man, K-man, too many mans! I get confused. Jus' like bombs. There used to be no such thing when I was growin' up. Nowadays, ever' time you turn on the news, you hear about all these dif'rent bombs. They got A-bombs, an' H-bombs, an' F-bombs…"

"Momer!" Otis exclaimed in shock.

Grandma Pyle shrugged. "What? They're all jus' bombs to me."

"It's ready!" Bunny and Lou Ann called from the kitchen.

"Oh, good! It's time my Gomer got another good meal in him." Grandma Pyle happily got up and started toward the kitchen. A red-faced Otis followed his outspoken wife to the table.

Carter followed them to see everyone seating themselves at the table save one.

"Where's Gomer?" Lou Ann asked, puzzled.

"Is that knucklehead still where I left him?" Carter demanded, turning around to look. Sure enough, Gomer was still standing at ease before the door. Carter shook his head in exasperation. "Ten hut," he called dismally.

Gomer straightened at the command.

"Dismissed." Carter rolled his eyes, waving the guy away as he turned to take a seat. Before he did, though, he smiled in Gomer's direction. "Oh, Pyle, while you're out there…can you open the door? I left something out in the hall, could you pick it up for me?" He winked at Bunny, who only tilted her head to one side in confusion.

"Okay, Sergeant. What am I…" Gomer's voice trailed off as he opened the door. "Shazaam!"

"What…" Bunny, Lou Ann, and Grandma and Grandpa Pyle crowded past Sergeant Carter to see Cousin Goober and Andy Taylor's family standing in the doorway.

"Well, come in, come in!" Gomer gestured for them all to step inside before closing the door.

"Hey cousin! How's that war over there?" Goober clapped Gomer on the back in greeting. "Think we'll be pullin' out anytime soon?"

Gomer closed his mouth and shook his head. The last thing he wanted to talk about on his leave was the war in Vietnam.

"Well, there's always next year. Missin' the fillin' station business any?"

"Well…" Gomer started, but his cousin cut him off.

"Don't answer that! Not with ol' Sergeant Carter around, anyway!" He laughed and turned to Gomer's wife. "Cousin Lou Ann, you purdy thing! An' look how big the baby's gotten…"

"Gomer, come here."

He looked up from the middle of greeting his friends to see his grandmother's stern expression. "Gran'ma, what is it?"

"Come here, child." She beckoned to a corner where they could converse alone. With all the other people now arrived, she figured this would be her best, and maybe only chance to say what she wanted to him.

He joined her as quickly as he could, a concerned expression on his face. He said nothing, waiting patiently for her to begin.

"I don't trust that Nixon feller!" she began in a hushed tone. "He's goin' around, talkin' how he's pullin' troops outta Vietnaam! Then he turns right around an' sends my grandbaby right into the middle of it! Hogwash!"

"Is that all?" Gomer relaxed and smiled. "I don't really mind, Gran'ma. A Marine's expected to go where duty calls him."

"You jus' be real careful." Grandma Pyle patted his hand. "Still got that lucky troll doll I gave you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I take it with me ever'where."

"Good. I read in your horoscope that you're gonna need it. It said, 'Great danger looms into your not-too-distant future. Never underestimate the value of a good friend.'"

An involuntary shiver ran down Gomer's spine. But he was soon able to shake his head and laugh. After all, he could expect no less from his grandmother, who believed in those sort of superstitious things. "I'll be extry careful, Gran'ma. You jus' pray for me, all right?"

"Oh, I have. That was your horoscope from last month."

Gomer gulped and smiled meekly. "Thanks, Gran'ma."

Carter finally worked his way over to Bunny and stood grinning beside her. He gestured to the assembly proudly. "Well? What do you think?"

Bunny glared at him. "I think I'm gonna need more plates."


	13. One Life to Lose

**Chapter 13**

_One Life to Lose_

Later that week, when everyone had left for their apartment or motel, Lou Ann relaxed tiredly against the couch. "Oh, mercy. I'm exhausted," she moaned.

"But you're all right, though?" Concern clearly showed itself on Gomer's face as he sat down beside her.

"Yes, darlin'. Please don't worry about it." Lou Ann gently closed her eyes.

"Well, if you're real tired-like, then I guess I'll have to wait, seein' as how I wanted to talk to you."

"That's right." Lou Ann groaned as she pushed herself up. "You ain't gotten a chance before."

"An' I really want to. But if you ain't up, to it, then I ain't neither."

"Oh, I am!" Lou Ann cried. "Actually, there's somethin' I want to talk to you about, too."

"You have?" Gomer blinked in surprise. What could this be? "Go on."

"The baby's time is so close, an' I've been goin' over these past nine months, an' I've been thinkin'…"

"Yeah?"

Lou Ann straightened and met his gaze. "I think we should make Sergeant Carter an' Bunny the godparents."

Gomer relaxed and smiled. "That's a fine idear, Lou Ann. You know what else? I think we should, too."

"You do? Oh, good! Then it's decided!" Lou Ann smiled. "Now, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Gomer took her hands in his, caressing them gently. "About what I mentioned in my last letter. You see, my turn of duty is up in July. An' Sergeant Brooks, he was talkin' to be about waitin' to take a terminal leave then. But I didn't say nuthin' back to him, cause I wanted to discuss it with you first. So here I am doin' that."

"What's all this about, Gomer? You sound so serious." Lou Ann said gently, slightly afraid of the change that had come over her husband.

Gomer sighed. "I guess it kinda is. Well, you see, it's like this. My enlistment's about up again."

"Yes, I know that." Lou Ann looked up at him quietly.

"Well…things is dif'rent than they was the last time. I'm married now, an' with us strikin' up a family an' all…"

Lou Ann nodded. "Yes?"

Gomer closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face. He uttered the words so quietly, she had to lean forward to catch them:

"Lou Ann, I want to reenlist."

She drew in her breath sharply, her grip tightening on his hands. "But why?" she whispered brokenly.

"I know ever'thing in my body's tellin' me not to. An' it don't make much sense to either of us. But you gotta understand, Lou Ann…" Gomer dropped his gaze. "I cain't really explain it too well. It's jus'…I cain't walk away from somethin' like that an' rejoin civilian life. It'd be like I was desertin' the Corps…"

"But Gomer, I need you!" Lou Ann protested, looking down at her large stomach. "_We _need you," she quietly amended.

"An' I know you do. Look at me."

She raised her head to find herself looking into the depths of his sad brown eyes.

"I think them fellers over there need me a bit more."

"But you wouldn't be any good to them! You wrote me how you was too scared to shoot!"

"An' I still am. But I cain help 'em in dif'rent ways. Things I didn't write you about. Like…like makin' sure ever' dead brother I found got returned to camp so he could get flown home. Like givin' candy to a starvin' child an' helpin' her find her parents again after her home is burnt. Like bein' the go-between durin' a negotiation with the enemy to free some of our boys from their camp…"

Lou Ann's eyes watered. How terrible it would be if Gomer had been one of those men being negotiated! "Did they get returned to you safe?"

Gomer nodded. "You don't know how happy I was when we found 'em sittin' under a tree with black bandanas tied 'round their eyes. An' no harm had come to 'em!" He bit back a smile. "Don't you see now? They got to see their families again…cause I helped. An' it's times like that when I know I already got the greatest job in the world."

Lou Ann shook her head. "Oh, Gomer…I suppose in times like these, a woman must be willin' to sacrifice. If that's what you really wanna do, Gomer, than you should do it!" She smiled and shook his hands emphatically.

"It means goin' back to Vietnaam," He added quietly.

"An' so we call on courage to see us through. An' if we haven't courage enough…" Her eyes sparkled laughingly. "Then only these three remain: faith, hope an' love. But the greatest of these is love."

"The Corinthians," Gomer murmured, smiling at Lou Ann's quoting of the scriptures.

"Please go ahead an' reenlist with my blessin'." Lou Ann gently leaned against him, putting her head on his shoulder. "It would've been selfish of me to keep you from doin' it. After all, you're too wonderful for me to have all to myself. An' I take pride an' comfort in knowin' there's a brave Marine fightin' over there in my honor."

"Well, I don't wanna feel like I ain't pullin' my weight…like I ain't supportin' you an' the little feller like I ought to."

"You shouldn't, Gomer." She murmured. "What you do now makes a difference to those people over there. You're helpin' 'em more than you could ever help anyone by workin' at the gas station down the street. Besides, you said so yourself. You cain't desert the Corps in their time of need." Her fingers reached up to stroke his black hair, pleased to see he'd kept the stray strands that sometimes fell over one eye.

"I'm surprised the barber at your camp hasn't cut them off," she murmured, fingering the gently.

Gomer laughed and looked down at his hands in his lap. "Prob'ly would if I gave him the chance. Duke an' me, an' a lot of the other fellers, too, we jus' don't trust him cause he'd prob'ly jus' give us them crew cuts again. So we jus' do it ourselves. Long as the officers don't think it impairs our vision any, we're fine."

"You have scissors?"

"No. We use our penknives."

"Penknives?!" Lou Ann exclaimed.

Gomer nodded. "Once a month, Duke trims mine, an' I trim his. It hurts, though. I wouldn't recommend it or anythin'. You gotta really work to saw a bit off, an' it pulls at your scalp when you got someone doin' it for you."

"I cain imagine!" Lou Ann put her hands on her hips. "_Penknives _for cuttin' hair! If that ain't the end!"

Gomer shrugged. "Well, there ain't nuthin' much we cain do about it, though. Jus' like we cain't bring over any food from home. We jus' gotta eat what they give us, an' what they give us ain't much."

"Nonsense." Lou Ann had turned around and started to rummage through her sewing bag. "I've got a pair of little embroidery scissors you cain take back with you." She fished them out and handed them over to him. "That'd be much better than havin' to use your penknives, for heaven's sake!"

"I don't rightly know if I'm allowed to have these…" Gomer held them in his palm doubtfully.

"Take 'em. I'd feel much better if you did." Lou Ann smiled. "All you gotta do is use 'em whenever the officers ain't around to watch. An' keep 'em hidden in your sock durin' inspections."

"All right. Thanks, Lou Ann." Gomer pocketed them carefully. "I'm sure Duke will wanna thank you, too. He ain't too fond of usin' penknives, neither."

"I would think so," Lou Ann nodded in agreement.

"But how are you goin' to embroider now that I've got your scissors?" Gomer asked playfully.

Lou Ann snapped her fingers. "Oh, darn!" She smiled and shrugged happily. "I guess that's jus' one more sacrifice I got to make."


	14. Pomp and Happenstance

**Chapter 14**

_Pomp and Happenstance_

"I wish you didn't have to go." Lou Ann whispered, hugging Gomer tightly as tears clogged her throat.

"I'll write. An' I'll put in for another leave as soon as I cain." Gomer kissed her hair, tears already spilling down his cheeks.

"Why couldn't it have come?" Lou Ann frowned down at her still large stomach and received another kick from the baby. "Are you scared of Daddy? Of all these people bein' here? Is that why you won't come?" She asked in despair.

"Let me know as soon as it does." Gomer grasped her hand and kissed her one last time.

Lou Ann nodded. "I will."

Gomer bade the others goodbye before he and Corporal Boyle reluctantly left for the airport.

Lou Ann sighed, inwardly shattered, and sat down heavily on the couch. Each time she had to say goodbye to him, it got harder!

"You okay, Miss Lou Ann?"

She turned and smiled at Opie Taylor. "Thank you for askin'. An I guess I will be, in time." She sighed, twisting about in a fruitless search for a comfortable position.

Grandpa Pyle frowned. "Breathin' awful hard there, girl."

"I usually do," she panted, " I've jus' been so tired an' rundown lately cause of the baby…"

Andy handed over a pillow from the chair he was sitting in. He looked over at Aunt Bee, who shook her head decisively.

"You're in pain, Miss Lou Ann. There ain't no mistakin' it. Where do you hurt?"

"Right here," she weakly tapped at her middle before moaning again.

Bunny and Grandma Pyle conversed quietly in a corner while sobs continued to rack Lou Ann's entire body.

-

"This is it." Corporal Boyle gestured and stood back. Gomer checked his watch and sighed, fiddling with his bag.

"Hey, cheer up. It's not like it's the end of the world. You'll see her again." He reassured the lance corporal gently.

Gomer shrugged listlessly. "I guess so."

Corporal Boyle patted him on the shoulder. "See you in a few."

As he watched Pyle's slowly retreating figure, the corporal was barreled into by one of the airport's employees. "Excuse me, are you Chuck Boyle by any chance?"

"Yeah." Boyle frowned down at the panting man. "What's this all about?"

"There was someone on the phone for you up in the manager's office. They sounded urgent. The only message I can convey is that they wanted me to tell you 'it's happening.'"

"Are you…?" Boyle's voice trailed off as he put two and two together. "Holy mackerel!"

"Pyle!" He yelled, running down the corridor after Gomer. "Pyle, come quick! It's happening!"

-

"Mercy!" Gomer cried as he jumped out of the jeep and started running toward the hospital before Boyle had even parked.

"Slow down! Wait up!" Boyle hollered as he hurried after him, but it was to no avail.

Gomer pushed through the doors and ran right up against the desk. "Scuse me, ma'am. Has a Mrs. Lou Ann Pyle checked in here yet?"

The receptionist, an old dragon of a lady, appraised him over her glasses before slowly answering his question. "The holding room for expectant fathers is up three floors and to the right."

"Thank you kindly," he murmured as he dashed off toward the elevators.

A minute later, Corporal Boyle slowly ran inside. He caught sight of the reception desk and quickly ambled over. "Say, have you seen a tall, skinny Marine with a kind of goofy-looking face come running through here?"

"Three floors up and to the right." She answered briskly, not even looking up from her paperwork.

"Thanks." Boyle strode off for the elevator.

The receptionist rolled her eyes. At this rate, they'd have the entire Marine Corps sitting up in that waiting room!

-

When Gomer finally arrived, he found Sergeant Carter pacing the length of the room, smoking a cigar in agitation.

"Hey, Sergeant." Gomer panted, sitting down in one of the chairs. After the mad dash he'd made from the airport to here, the adrenaline was receding and instead he found he was dead tired.

"Pyle, why didn't you tell me?!" Carter exclaimed.

Gomer cocked his head to one side. "Tell you what, Sergeant?"

"What? That I'm about to become a godfather, that's what!" Carter turned and continued his pacing. "Bunny just told me when we rushed Lou Ann out here an hour ago! Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

"I sure hope she's all right now." Gomer shook his head worriedly. "Where'd ever'one else go to?"

"All out in the family waiting room. I was only able to get in here cause I'm the godfather!" Carter stopped his pacing and threw his hands out in front of him. "Godfather! Me, a godfather!"

"Well, you're practically like a father to your sister, an' you did adopt that Korean girl when you was over in the war, an' all." Gomer replied.

"Collectively. As part of the whole platoon. This is the first time I've ever been actually, legally named a father of any sort!"

"I'm sorry, Sergeant." Gomer said quietly. "But I jus' know you'll be great with the little feller. 'Specially after you an' Miss Bunny took such good care of Lou Ann all these months."

"I know, Pyle. I know." Carter reluctantly sat down beside him. "But now I'm as nervous as you are! After all, that's my godchild being born in there!"

"Pipe down, will ya?" A man lying on the couch opened one eye and removed a cotton boll from his ear in irritation. "I'm tryin' to get some sleep over here!"

"Are you gonna have a baby, too?" Gomer asked him earnestly.

"Humph." The man eyed him contemptuously. "My last."

"How cain you sleep through somethin' like this, then? My heart's jus' a-goin' ka-thump, ka-thump…"

"First timer, hey? Wait'll you get three or four under your belt. Then this won't be nothing!"

Carter rolled his eyes. "So what number'll this kid make? You eighth?"

"Ninth," the man snapped in reply. "And keep your whammy shut! Godfathers got the easiest time of it. And I can hear you through my earplugs!" With that, he turned over on the couch, replacing the boll in his ear.

"Well, excuse me!" Carter muttered crossly.

Gomer ran a hand through his hair distractedly, his large eyes filled with worry. "What if somethin's happened? I jus' gotta know! I cain't bear it, Sergeant Carter, I jus' cain't!"

"I know how you're feeling, Pyle." Carter shook his head. "I know just how you're feeling!"

-

Later that day, Colonel Grey, of all people, walked in to pay a visit to the expectant fathers.

"Ten hut!" Gomer exclaimed as he and Sergeant Carter rose in greeting to the Colonel.

Grey waved them off. "As you were." He frowned as he looked over the two men. "What's happened, here? You two look terrible!"

"And loud!" The man lying on the couch interrupted. "Sergeant Big Mouth and Private Talk Too Much, I like to call them."

"That's Lance Corporal, if you please." Gomer pointed to his sleeve importantly.

The man waved him off and turned back on his side.

Colonel Grey turned back to the two men. "What could you have been about?"

"Worry, sir." Carter quietly answered.

"Have you been able to hear anythin'? How's she doin'?" Gomer asked the colonel breathlessly.

"Last I heard, she was fine." He gently reassured Pyle. "Now, sit down. You two have got to relax!"

"How cain I?!" Gomer exclaimed. "Somethin's wrong an' you ain't tellin' me, I know it!"

Colonel Grey smiled at the overwrought father-to-be. "I felt the same way when my daughter was being born. But getting yourself into a state like this doesn't help. And it's more destructive than you could know." He turned to the sergeant. "So I hear you're going to be the godfather?"

"Who told you?" Carter mumbled grumpily, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair.

"Corporal Boyle." The colonel pulled a long, new cigar out of his pocket and handed it to Carter. "Here. Take this and have a smoke out back." The look he gave the sergeant was surprisingly not stern, but imploring. _Please, _it said, _I know what I'm doing._

"All right." Carter grudgingly took it and exited out onto the fire escape.

Grey turned back to find Pyle fidgeting in his seat, his eyes rolling in fear of the unknown.

"Pyle." Grey put an arm out to still the boy and reached for a glass he'd set down on one of the coffee tables there in the waiting room. "Have a drink. Please, it'll make you feel better."

Gomer groaned, rubbing his eyes with his hands tiredly. "No thanks, Colonel Grey. I don't drink."

"Pyle, it's water." Grey slowly handed the glass to Gomer. "You need to relax. Just drink some."

Gomer sighed. "All right." He shakily raised the glass to his mouth and took a tentative sip. Colonel Grey was right. It was only water.

"Settles the nerves a bit?"

"Sure does!" Gomer took a longer drink.

Colonel Grey nodded and sat back in one of the chairs, opening up a horticultural magazine.

"Thank you kindly, Colonel." Gomer took another drink and relaxed. Grey had been right. He felt so content and at ease. All symptoms of being uptight were gone. A smile even graced the corners of his mouth.

Colonel Grey watched Pyle over the top of his magazine conspicuously as the minutes ticked by.

All was quiet in the waiting room. To his own surprise, Gomer felt his eyelids beginning to droop. His mind tried to fight it off, telling himself that this was too important to miss. But everything just kept growing darker…and darker…and…darker…

-

"Pyle…" Colonel Grey tapped Gomer's shoulder insistently. "Pyle, wake up!"

Gomer waved away the hand and settled further in his chair.

Carter shook his head. "PYLE, YOU KNUCKLEHEAD!"

Gomer sat straight up. "Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o, two nine three double o."

"Pyle, cut that out! You're not a P.O.W."

Gomer blinked and looked around. Of course. The sitting room. He was at the hospital…

"Where's the one feller with the nine kids?" He asked drowsily.

"He left four hours ago. Come here, Pyle. There's someone who wants to see you."

Gomer slowly stood and allowed himself to be led over to the window. There, he gazed down at the bundle the nurse held in her arms.

His eyes widened. "Is that…?"

"He's your son." Grey replied softly.

Gomer looked into the baby's brown eyes and melted. He sighed and smiled down at the tiny baby. He slowly raised his hand and waggled his fingers. "Hey there, little feller."

He looked closely and thought he could make out the ghost of a smile on the baby's face. "Look at him. He likes me!" Gomer's heart caught in his throat. Lou Ann had been right. Their baby _was _the most adorable thing!

Carter trembled. "My godson." He tentatively smiled. "Hi, little guy."

The baby closed his eyes and furrowed deeper into the folds of his blanket.

"I think he likes you, Sergeant Carter!" Gomer smiled proudly. He turned to the nurse. "What's his name?"

She smiled. "He doesn't have one yet. That's up for you and Mrs. Pyle to decide."

"Well, we certainly cain't let the little feller go without a name." Gomer smiled down at the baby boy before returning his attention to the nurse. "How is Mrs. Pyle? She all right?"

"As fine as a woman can be after having a baby." The nurse smiled reassuringly. "She's resting in her room right now."

"When cain I go see her?"

"In a few hours. Let her get settled and rested first. And then you'll be the only one to go back and visit her. It isn't open hours or anything. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am, very clear. I wanna talk to her about names for the little feller an' see if she's all right."

"Perfectly understandable." The nurse held up the child, who had already fallen asleep. "I think he's ready to go back to the nursery now."

"All right. Thank you kindly, ma'am. Bye now." Gomer waved as she moved back away from the panel. He turned to Sergeant Carter excitedly. "Did you see him, Sergeant? Did you jus' see him? Wasn't he somethin', though?"

"Pyle, he's a baby. Thousands of 'em are born every day."

"But it ain't ever' day your godson is borned! He's real special, ain't he?"

"Mmm." Carter shrugged, giving Gomer a yes-no-maybe so answer. He was awfully proud of the little boy he'd just been shown. But that didn't mean he was going to give Pyle the satisfaction of knowing it!

"Let's go tell the others the news." Colonel Grey gestured to the door that led to the waiting room where the rest of the family sat anxiously.

All was quiet as the three walked in. Corporal Boyle stood at the Colonel's entrance, but Grey quickly dismissed him.

"Well?" Andy looked up at the men expectantly.

"We got ourselves a boy." Gomer said quietly.

The other occupants of the waiting room jumped as the party sang out cheers and congratulations.

-

"You sure you're okay, now?" Gomer held Lou Ann's hand tightly and gazed down into her face worriedly.

"Yes, darlin'. Tell me, do you like him?" Lou Ann whispered.

"Like him? Goll-ly, Lou Ann. I love him!"

"I knew you would." She smiled down at the infant sleeping in her arms. "He's the most darlin' little boy I ever did see."

"Of course he is." Gomer slowly leaned down and kissed her forehead. "He's ours."

Meanwhile, out in the waiting room, the family was mulling over the latest addition.

"I wonder what he'll be like." Bunny mused aloud.

"What do you think he'll be like? He's a Pyle!" Otis Pyle swelled proudly. "We cain go fishin' an' campin' an' hikin' an' I cain tell him all about my time in the cavalry!" To him, being a great-grandfather was going to be like being a grandfather all over again.

"He will be curious, energetic, and impatient." Grandma Pyle nodded sagely.

"How can you tell?" Bunny asked, awed by the knowing tone in the old woman's voice.

Grandma Pyle shrugged. "He has to be. He's an Aires, after all."

"Really?" Opie piped up.

"Who believes in star signs anymore?" Aunt Bee scoffed. "Knowin' Gomer, I bet a sweeter child doesn't exist!"

Opie turned to his father. "Dad, we gotta come back out here sometime to see him!"

Andy smiled. "If you want to when school's out, that's fine."

Corporal Boyle was about to say something when the doors to the waiting room flew open. J. R. Poovie stormed in, followed by his wife.

"You!" Grandpa Pyle snarled, rising to his feet.

"You!" Bunny and Sergeant Carter cried, standing up as well.

"We heard through the Mayberry Telegraph and we came as soon as we knew." Mrs. Poovie squeaked nervously under all the malevolent glares her husband was attracting.

"Where is she?" Poovie demanded, jutting his chin out defiantly as Otis Pyle's towering frame hovered over him.

"Who?" Grandpa Pyle put his hands on his hips and gazed sternly down at the man.

"My daughter! That stupid son of yours should've never laid eyes on her, let alone touch her! Where is she? What have you done with her?!"

Otis frowned and pointed. "Go see for yourself!"

As Poovie stormed off in the direction he'd indicated, Carter ran up to him, gesturing wildly. "Why'd you let him do that?!"

Grandpa Pyle crossed his arms. "I want Lou Ann to tell her father once and for all herself!"

Mr. Poovie pushed past several nurses, ignoring their cries as he came to the desired door. His hand on the knob, he was ready to fling it open when he decided to peek in the window

He grimaced. There was what's-his-face, gripping his daughter's hand as he gazed over her shoulder at the baby she held in her arms. He murmured something in her ear that made her laugh as she exclaimed, "Oh, Gomer, that's perfect!"

They hugged each other close in mutual affection as they cooed softly at the baby. _That baby…_

Wordlessly, Mr. Poovie's hand dropped from the doorknob back down to his side. _That baby was his grandson!_

His stormy expression suddenly softened. Whether he liked it or not, that was his grandson! His heart swelled with affection for the child his daughter held so dotingly. Perhaps he'd been too hard on her husband. After all, he did care strongly for his daughter…Even if he wasn't Monroe. Perhaps he could get used to the boy, in time.

He turned away from the door and slowly made his way back to the waiting room. Everyone looked up pensively as he reentered. He hugged his wife, smiling.

"I saw him!" He whispered breathlessly. "I saw our grandson!"

He then turned and strode purposefully over to Grandpa Pyle. The latter coolly eyed his approach. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as Poovie offered his hand.

"Congratulations, sir." He smiled thinly as he heartily shook Pyle's hand. "We got ourselves one heckuva fine boy!"

-

Later, as the others got their first marvels of the child through the nursery window, Gomer quietly joined the back of the group.

Bunny turned to him and smiled. "How's Lou Ann?"

"I sure am happy to say she's all right!"

"That's good." Bunny gestured to the window. "Have you decided on a name yet?"

"Sure have!" Gomer was grinning like crazy. "His name's Vincent Gomer Pyle!"

Sergeant Carter stopped cold. He slowly turned around. He couldn't have just heard that! It had to be a mistake! "S-say that again, Pyle."

"That's his name: Vincent Gomer Pyle."

"Why? Why'd you name your kid after me?" Carter swallowed, his voice tinted with despair.

Gomer grinned. "Well, you see, Sergeant, it was like this. Lou Ann an' me we jus' couldn't come up with the right name for the little feller. An' we couldn't jus' leave him here nameless like that…so I asked one of the nurses for suggestions. An' she told me to name him after a great man. An' well…Goll-ly, Sergeant. You're the greatest man I know."

Carter was touched. He swiftly turned away. Pyle was the last person of all people he wanted to get emotional in front of. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to regain control of his bearings. He finally mustered enough to assume an air of indifference. "Thank you, Pyle." He replied, pleased to note that it had indeed come off sounding as though he didn't care.

It might as well have all been for naught. Gomer simply smiled and shrugged. "Ain't nuthin' but the truth. The name really fits the little feller, don't it?"

"Absolutely!" Bunny smiled. "That was awfully sweet of you and Lou Ann, naming him after Vince like that! It's perfect!"

"Hey, Cousin Gomer!" Goober turned from the window to face the father. "What you say his name was again?"

"Vincent." Gomer smiled proudly at the name.

"Vincent, hey? Well, I'll be. Little feller made history. The first Pyle ever to be named Vincent!" He turned back around to peek in again at the baby.

"You know what? He's right!" Gomer exclaimed after thinking about it for a minute. He turned back to Bunny and Carter. "Vincent ain't a very common name back home in North Caroliner. Beg your pardon, Sergeant Carter."

"None taken, Pyle. After all, Gomer isn't a very common name back in Kansas." Carter smiled and studied the ceiling tiles.

"Pyle! What are you still doing here?" Boyle exclaimed, running up to the group.

"You know what, Corporal Boyle. Heck, you was the one that told me!" Gomer replied.

"Will you look at the time? Pyle, if you're not back at your camp in ten hours, you'll be classified as AWOL!"

Gomer's eyes widened as he realized the corporal was right. "Shazaam!"

-

"What am I gonna do? Oh, mercy! What am I gonna do? I'll get there late an' Sergeant Brooks will say, 'where you been?' an' I'll say, 'home. You see, my leave wasn't quite long enough.' Then he'll court martial me an' kill me dead, I know it!" Gomer shook his head sadly.

"And whose fault was that?!" Carter eyed him sternly as they made their way down the corridor.

"Mine, Sergeant. I'm the only one to blame for this entire mess."

"Pyle, you don't understand anything, do you? Don't you know the Marines are handing out dishonorable discharges left and right for less? You can't do things like this right now! You have to do what's expected of you! You've got the world to show you're a top notch Marine of the highest order! And you know why?"

"Cause you trained me, Sergeant."

"And you let me down! What's the matter with you, Pyle? I've had you since you were a recruit! Five whole years you had under my wing! And you, of all people, has to put me to shame by getting court-martialed!"

"I'm sorry for lettin' you down, Sergeant. An' for makin' you mad. You've got ever' right to be." Gomer hung his head in shame, the longest of expressions on his face. "I feel terrible! Terrible, terrible, terrible!"

"Mad?" Sergeant Carter laughed and stopped, bringing Gomer to a halt alongside him. "I'm not mad. I'M FURIOUS!!!"

Gomer winced. "I rightly deserved that," he murmured quietly.

"Perhaps not."

The two men looked in the direction the voice had come from and straightened when they caught sight of the Colonel. "Ten hut!"

"As you were." The Colonel strode toward them purposefully. "Pyle, in the face of losing your honor, you showed up here to support your closest family. Devotion, of all things, is a trait that no Marine should be without. And despite that, there are several that are."

"I know jus' how you're feelin', Colonel Grey. Take Sergeant Brooks!" Gomer nodded in agreement.

"You're a good man, Pyle. A true one. I'd hate to have it end badly for you like this." Grey regarded him approvingly before he continued. "I have a friend in the Air Force. A general. One who's in command of a special flight battalion. His base is located only a few minutes away from here. Go there and ask for General Fischer. Tell him Colonel Grey sent you. I think if you explain to him your situation, he'll see to it that you're airlifted back to Saigon as soon as possible."

Gomer's face lit up. "Shazaam! Thank you, Colonel Grey! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I sure do appreciate it. You mind if I go tell Lou Ann that I'm leavin', for real this time?"

"Not at all." Colonel Grey smiled. "But move quickly."

"Yes, sir. I sure will!" With that, Gomer hurried on down the aisle.

"You know, I was going to commend him of the same things myself before you beat me to it."

Grey turned and feigned a smile at the sergeant. "I'm sure you were." He firmly gripped Carter's shoulder. "You just keep turning out those 'top-notch' Marines."

"Yes, sir." Carter laughed uneasily. He had the sneaking suspicion that whatever he did failed to slip by the Colonel unnoticed. It was so hard to get on the man's good side! And yet, Grey had actually taken a preferable liking to Pyle! It wasn't fair.

He grumbled under his breath as he slowly trudged back toward where Bunny was waiting for him. Some men had all the luck!


	15. Gomer, the Reluctant POW

**A/N: Giving credit where credit is due, the ownership rights to the characters of Colonel, Karen, and Carole Hanson, as well as Starlight, belong to Bonnie Bryant. Not me. Just thought I'd point that out.**

* * *

**Chapter 15**

_Gomer, the Reluctant P.O.W._

"Gomer!" Duke exclaimed, running up to his friend. "I thought you weren't going to make it!"

"Me neither," Gomer panted. "But I did."

"Hey, how was it? Lou Ann, how's she? And…"

"Fall in!" Sergeant Brooks barked.

"Tell you later." Gomer murmured as he hurried to fall into the ranks.

"Pyle!"

Gomer looked up as Brooks called his name.

"The Colonel wants to see you in his office. The rest of you," Brooks turned to address the others, "are going on a scouting mission. I have maps of the areas Command wants you to check out. We are to report back with the number of enemy troops encamped at each spot indicated on the map. Therefore, I'll be separating you into squads. I'll be in charge of the first, Corporal Slater the second. Pyle,"

Gomer turned around again.

"As you're the only lance corporal in this platoon, it would be extremely helpful if you can make it back in time to lead out the third squad." Brooks' voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Yes, sir. You cain count on me, sir."

"And if any of you mess this up, Lieutenant Shrenk will have your hides! Now, move out!"

Gomer hurried across the camp to where the Colonel took up residence. He wondered what it could possibly be all about. He'd never even seen Colonel Hanson before. He'd never had any run-ins with the man before. What could he want now?

His squad would be waiting for him, so Gomer double-timed it the rest of the way to the officers' portion of camp.

-

"Lance Corporal Pyle reportin'. I'm here to see the Colonel."

A Sergeant Major returning from that way pointed him in the right direction. Before he knew it, he'd stumbled across Colonel Hanson's 'office.' He waited a minute before proceeding inside, looking at the walls around him. He was surprised to see that almost all of them depicted a young girl on a buckskin horse. There were some of her jumping her horse, holding her horse, grazing her horse, schooling her horse, and still more of her proudly displaying various ribbons and trophies she'd won. Gomer wondered who the girl could be. It seemed as though she was the only person in all of the photographs…

"I see you've become acquainted with my daughter."

Gomer whirled around and straightened as he caught sight of the Colonel standing in the doorway. "Lance Corporal Pyle reportin' as ordered, sir!"

"At ease." Colonel Mitch Hanson smiled and entered the room. As Gomer studied him, he realized the colonel had the same dark brown skin and laughing eyes as the girl in the pictures. He'd never thought of the colonel being an African American, but now that he knew, he didn't feel very surprised by the discovery. The man certainly looked friendly enough.

Hanson glanced at the pictures and continued. "Carole is quite the horsewoman. She took to it keenly right from when she was little. And Starlight there's been the best thing that's happened to her. Especially after Karen…" A pained look crossed his face and his voice trailed away.

_Who's Karen? _Gomer thought, puzzled. Colonel Hanson seemed to be a real fine man. Not at all like Sergeant Brooks. He had a daughter back home, and he obviously cared for her a lot!

"I understand now that you've joined the club, being a family man and carrying out my duties overseas." Hanson smiled at Gomer from behind his desk. "Ed's told me a lot of things about you. You see, we were roommates back at the Naval Academy and graduated together at the top of the class. Then, of course, we were transferred our separate ways. But we do still keep in touch. He called and gave me a briefing of your character when you visited home on leave. It's hard to earn such unsolicited praise from Ed. He doesn't give it out freely. And you seem to have cumulated quite a lot of it."

"Beg your pardon, sir. But who's Ed?"

Hanson laughed. "Ed Grey. Currently stationed out at Camp Henderson in California."

Gomer brightened. "You know Colonel Grey? Shazaam! It's a small world after all, ain't it? Your friend's a mighty fine feller, I might add. I never would've made it back in time if it hadn't been for him!"

"So he told me." Hanson looked down in contemplation, recalling the phone conversation. "He's fitted every attribute to you that creates an outstanding Marine, though I hear your sergeants would say otherwise."

"Yes, sir. Sergeant Carter, he points out my ever' failin', so's I cain improve myself. An' Sergeant Brooks, well…excuse my sayin' so, but I don't think any of us in my platoon please him too much. Duke says its cause we think instead of jus' followin' orders like he'd want us to."

"Every Marine ought to be intelligent enough to think himself out of any situation that comes his way. Especially in active combat. Our ability to think for ourselves is what separates us from other military outfits of the world." Colonel Hanson frowned. "I think I'll have to have a talk with your Sergeant Brooks."

"Yes, sir…'scuse me, sir. Cain you go ahead an' tell me why I'm here? Cause I'm needed to head a scouting squad, an' they're kinda waitin' on me."

"Of course." Colonel Hanson handed him an envelope. "This was express mailed to my office this morning, with instructions from Colonel Grey to personally hand it to you. And I know," he gestured to the walls of his office, "how important pictures of your child can be."

"Thank you, sir!" Gomer slipped the envelope in his pocket and patted it gently. Pictures of Vincent! What a nice thing, what a nice thing for Colonel Grey and Colonel Hanson to do! "An' I sure hope Miss Carole's doin' all right."

"As long as she's around horses, she is." Hanson stood and shook Gomer's hand. "It was nice meeting you, Lance Corporal Pyle."

"You too, Colonel. An' thank you!"

"You'd best return to your men now."

"Yes, sir…Is it all right to salute you in here, sir?"

Hanson laughed and nodded. "Perfectly all right."

"Yes, sir!" Gomer gave the Colonel a sharp salute and waited until it was returned before leaving the office.

_Well, I'll be, _Gomer thought as he ran back toward the men. _I ain't alone. Colonel Hanson's over here an' he's got a little 'un, too! An' he knows Colonel Grey, an' he's real nice, too! _Gomer smiled and nodded. _Jus' wait till Lester hears about _him!

-

"That's my hand!" PFC James Fargo yelped as Private Will Steffens' boot landed squarely on it.

"Oh, hush! It ain't that bad!" Steffens retorted. Only eighteen years old and raised on a Montana ranch, he'd dropped out of high school when he'd gotten caught in the draft. Needless to say, he didn't get along well with PFC Fargo, a studious Vermont native who'd recently graduated from Cambridge University and completed his European Tour in England.

Private Walker Hughes from Long Island, New York, rolled his eyes while PFC John Redfoot, a full-blooded Cherokee from Oklahoma, remained silent.

Gomer, who was crawling slightly further ahead of his squad, waved to them absent-mindedly. "Simmer down now, fellers." He looked down and consulted first his compass, then his map. They ought to be getting really close to the enemy encampment. It would be of the utmost importance to remain as quiet as possible.

He parted a few branches and sucked in his breath. There they were! It was the first time he'd gotten to take a good look at the NVA. The beady-eyed Orientals caused him to quake fearfully. Slowly, he retreated and turned back to his squad.

"Spread out, now. Surround the camp an' get as good troop estimates as you cain. Meet me up right here at ten past fourteen hundred an' we'll compare numbers for our official report. Got that?"

They nodded and slowly began moving out while Gomer returned to his former position above the camp. As far as he could see, there were only two sitting around the empty encampment.

One sat coddling a hog badger in his arms, while the other was standing over him, yelling. Gomer winced at the fluent Vietnamese. These men were intimidating to him, who'd only seen their likes before smiling at him as they served him Chinese. He was afraid. But he had to do his duty. Cautiously, he leaned forward to try to discern what was being said.

-

"Anh Dung! What you think you're doing!" Duong exclaimed upon seeing the animal lying in his comrade's arms.

"Meet my friend. He be Tuan. He be very smart." The other smiled as he stroked the badger appreciatively.

"How smart is badger that come out in sun? He be stupid! Like you!"

"Me no stupid! Neither is Tuan!" Anh Dung retorted hotly.

"You get in too much trouble! You supposed to guard camp!"

"I always guard camp! You guard camp!"

"You guard camp!"

"You!"

"You!"

Suddenly, they stopped as they heard a cry and saw a flash of green tumble down the hillside.

"Who be there?" Duong called out cautiously.

When no reply came, the two slowly trekked over to where they'd seen the form fall. They jumped back as the figure began rapidly backing up, his eyes wide with fear.

"Bah. It is man." Anh Dung waved it off and turned back to his pet.

"American!" Duong's eyes narrowed as he took in the man's face. "He is the enemy!"

-

_What am I gonna do now?! _Gomer thought as he continued backing away from the enemy troops. One was pointing at him and shouting. Gomer felt his stomach doing backflips. Why, oh, _why _had that branch given out from under him?

"H-help!" He squeaked.

"Ma vu'o'ng!" The one pointing at him exclaimed, making Gomer go cold.

"Chau My?" The other asked, starting to look interested.

The other laughed. "Tu binh!"

Gomer rammed his back up against the dirt wall of the cliff bordering the camp. Ignoring the pain, he jumped up and tried to make a run for it, but the two Charlies were too fast for him. Swiftly, they apprehended him and relieved him of his rifle.

Faced with capture, Gomer bravely hid his grimace, holding his head high with pride. He wondered fleetingly if the other men he'd gotten away to report his capture. Maybe the Marines would come to his aid. He'd just have to believe it would be so.

His heart leapt up into his throat as one of his captors prodded him along with a rifle. That didn't make the situation any less terrifying. What was going to happen to him now?

-

They held his head down, his hands tied behind his back, as Gomer's captors led him down a dark, oppressive corridor.

He tried glancing sideways at the other American prisoners in their cells, but a swift, dizzying blow delivered to the back of his head put an end to that.

Once he regained his senses, Gomer used his peripherals to look at the fellow P.O.W.s that he passed by. Their faces had sunken, foreboding looks, as if they were ghosts urging him to turn back. Gomer shuddered in revulsion, resisting the strong urge to vomit then and there. He had a feeling this enemy would not be so gracious as to tempt information out of him with food.

His Vietnamese captors continued tittering to each other as they led their prisoner to his cell. Gomer didn't at all like the harsh tones their voices had taken on.

Finally arriving at their destination, they pulled open a rusted door and mercilessly threw him to the floor. They then gestured o his ties and fell into deep conversation with each other. Gomer didn't move a muscle until they had left, closing the door behind them.

Gomer knew he had to act fast before they came back. Growing up, he'd listened to all the stories about Henry Houdini, the famous magician, and his death-defying tricks. One of the ways he'd amused himself as a child was practicing Houdini's handcuff trick with a piece of rope. He'd gotten really good at it, too…but that was years and years ago. He hoped he could still remember the trick.

Gomer's memory didn't fail him. Before long, the ropes fell slack against the stone floor while Gomer hurriedly set about what he knew he had to do.

He picked up his helmet from where they'd thrown it down on the floor and dumped his treasures out on the floor. He hastily fumbled with his breast pocket before pulling out the envelope Colonel Hanson had given him earlier. He hadn't even had time to look through its contents yet!

Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, Gomer gathered them up and crawled to the back of the cell. There, he found a small patch of dirt no bigger than his hand. He burrowed a hole deep enough to shove his possessions into before covering it back up. He paused in the middle of this task to think for a second. Then, after a quick consideration, he slowly brought his dogtags up from where they'd always lain around his neck. Bringing them over his head, he gently set them down with his other belongings. He handled them as if they were sacred. That was the first time they'd left his person since he'd become a Marine. To him, they represented his core identity, as well as that of the Corps. Somehow, there was pride and honor encased in their tarnished metal. He grew angry to think of his captors handling them as if they were junk. His grip tightened on them as he firmly shook his head. No, they would not have them!

Just as he'd finished covering the hole, his captors reappeared. They began shouting frantically when they discovered he'd broken free of his cuffs.

They'd brought a third man with them, one who gleefully held up a razor sharp blade. Gomer gulped. What were they going to do to him?

It wasn't long before he knew their intentions. The three men first surrounded him before the new man dropped to the ground next to him. Gomer stiffened as the man grabbed his head and held it tight, holding the sharp blade against his neck while the other two proceeded to strip him.

They refused to simply unzip his nylon uniform, electing instead to cut it away barbarically. One of the men wrenched his ankle several times as he slowly yanked off his boots. Every time Gomer winced or made even the slightest motion, the knife pressed harder against his neck, cutting into the skin so much that a thin trickle of blood began running down his throat. Gomer lay as still as he could, afraid for his life as he was slowly left clad in nothing but his underwear.

They then proceeded to hold him while the man with the knife lifted Gomer's arms high over his head. Putting them together, he first bound them tightly at the elbows before scrunching his wrists against each other. He tied them together in such a confining manner that they chafed uncomfortably against the strong rope.

Gomer bit down hard on his lip, wanting to cry out in fear, pain and fright…but the Marine in him forced him to swallow his anxieties. _Straighten up…and deal with it! _Sergeant Carter's voice reminded him sternly. He glanced at his captors and braced himself with conviction. He wouldn't let Sergeant Carter down, not this time! He knew he ought to tell the men his name, rank and serial number, but a sharp wrench of pain from his shoulders caused him to push it aside. There'd be time enough for that later. For now, he wondered if they were planning on removing his arms entirely!

After Gomer seemed to have lost all feeling in his arms, his captors suddenly stopped and let him collapse on the hard floor. Muttering to each other excitedly in their native tongue, they exited the cell and closed the door behind them. The sound of a key turning in a lock told Gomer they were finished with him for the time being.

Gomer was careful to stay as still as possible. If he moved, a new wave of pain would overtake him, making him want to cry out. But he couldn't do that. He was a Marine. He was supposed to be brave and strong. He wouldn't give his captors the satisfaction of knowing how badly they had hurt him.

_Why does it got to be so hard? _He wondered, gasping for breaths as he recalled the first aid training Sergeant Carter had given him. First things first, he had to move around to assess where the pain was.

His jaw wavered as he realized his shoulders were a mess after being wrung out by his captors. The circulation in his arms was poor. But worst of all was his left ankle. It had been twisted so out of sorts that it throbbed even when he was still. He could tell it was badly sprained, because it had swollen to the size of a grapefruit. Gomer shook his head slowly. This wouldn't do, this wouldn't do at all!

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the torn fragments of what once was his uniform. If he could make his way over there, maybe he could find a way to use a scrap to wrap his ankle!

A low moan escaped his mouth as he tried wriggling closer to the torn uniform. He didn't think he'd ever hurt so much before! What had it all been for? Information? He gritted his teeth and continued his plight. They weren't going to get any information out of him, no sir! Not even fake information, after the way they'd treated him.

"What a mean thing, what a mean thing to do!" Gomer murmured as he pulled up alongside the discarded shards of nylon. This wasn't a prison camp, it was an Indochinese torture chamber!

He raised his head to stare at his arms, which were bound together in front of him awkwardly. The only part of his hands they had left untied were the very tips of his fingers. He moved them slightly, trying to ignore the pain shooting out of his shoulders. This was going to be harder than he'd expected!

He slowly worked himself up to a sitting position and reached out for the closest bit of fabric. He found it was two scraps held together by the zipper still attached to them. All the better. His fingers gently brushed the piece, then dropped it. He made slow progress in obtaining it, but he kept at it, the state of his ankle empowering him to do more.

From there it was mainly touch-and-go. It took him several more long, excruciating hours of fumbling around with the bandage before he'd gotten it sufficiently wrapped. But he remained persistent throughout. When he'd finally pulled the zipper up, securing the neat wrap around his foot, it was quite early in the morning. His hands were tied until morning, so he attempted laying down on the hard floor to sleep.

As he closed his eyes, hurt and incredulous at what he'd suffered, Colonel Hanson's words floated to the forefront of his mind. _"Every Marine ought to be intelligent enough to think himself out of any situation that comes his way…"_

_"If you should become captured, it is your _duty _as a prisoner of war to discover a means of escape as quickly as possible."_

He sighed. Sergeant Carter was right. No matter how much he hurt, he had to try and find a way out of this place.

He tried sitting up, only to groan and collapse again. Perhaps he would rethink how he was going to escape…tomorrow.

-

Gomer soon discovered that escape was impossible as long as his arms were tied up, so he resigned himself to wait for someone to come and interrogate him. Who knew? They might possibly untie him in the process. But no one came.

Gomer waited patiently for someone to come for hours on end. But no one even approached his cell door.

He thought back to his experience as a P.O.W. during maneuvers back at Camp Henderson. Sick. Yes, he'd make like he was sick! Although the job didn't really require much acting. He did feel sick. He hurt, he was cold, he was hungry, and he was dirty. He would simply play up the sound effects.

For the next stretch of time (for he had lost track of time altogether), Gomer moaned and groaned as loudly as he could. Surely, if they thought he was sick, they would give him medical attention. But again, no one came.

He'd been in the prison for who knew how long when he stopped, too weak to make a noise. He laid his bristly cheek down on the hard floor, closing his eyes in fatigue. He was past caring about his injuries, past thinking about how hungry he was. Relief…that was all he wanted. Relief…

-

"Up!"

Gomer's conscience was slowly aroused as he felt the cooling sensation of water cascading over his head. He stretched his tongue out to taste some. Somebody had come to his rescue! Who else could have known how thirsty he was?

"Idiots!" The voice above his head roared. "We almost lost this one!"

Before he knew it, Gomer was being hauled to his feet. His left ankle collapsed underneath him while the other leg wobbled unsteadily. He was pushed onto the stone slab that supposed to be his 'cot.' A man roughly began untying his arms while he yelled in Vietnamese to someone else.

A shuffling of feet commenced at the door. Gomer tried to open his eyes to see his rescuer, but he couldn't seem to find the strength. Any light that peeked through seemed to swim before his eyes.

"Wake up." The man freed his arms, shaking him senselessly. "Wake up!"

A slap across the face brought Gomer's hand to his cheek. It didn't feel like it even belonged to him. He slowly rubbed the spot, feeling the beard he'd grown. _Goll-ly, I must look like some sort of spook, _he thought fleetingly.

"Drink." A flask was pushed into his hand, which Gomer gratefully accepted. He winced as he tried lifting it, new waves of pain shooting from his shoulders. The whole container was empty in two swallows, and yet his throat still screamed for more.

"Eat." He was handed a meager piece of bread. In a matter of seconds, Gomer had scarfed it down. He'd been so hungry! He gave a small nod to the man who'd untied him appreciatively.

"Clothes." A dingy uniform was thrown at him. It was really nothing more than loose rags patched together into pants and a shirt. Stripes were barely visible under the dirt and 'TU 1719' was printed in bold black lettering across the back. Gomer inspected them slowly and grimaced. It was the uniform of a prisoner. "Thank you kindly, sir." He murmured.

The man was quiet as Gomer slowly donned the shirt and pants. It fit him all right, but it hung so loosely over his frame. Surely he hadn't lost that much weight!

"Now you talk."

Gomer slowly raised his eyes to the face of his rescuer. Two black beady eyes glared back at him. The man wore a North Vietnamese uniform, his hands folded behind his back in a cool, professional manner. He stepped forward and fixed his gaze on the prisoner. "What regiment you from?"

Now it commenced. The battle had begun and Gomer wasn't about to lose it. He squared his shoulders and bravely returned the man's stare. "Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o, two nine three double o."

"You starve for three days and you still don't talk?" The man frowned before deciding to try a different tack. "Focused boy. What branch of military?"

"Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o, two nine three double o."

The interrogator nodded thoughtfully. "You look like Air Force man. One who flies big planes."

Gomer couldn't keep from scoffing. "Heck, no. If you listened to what I'm sayin', you'd know without me tellin' you. Ever'one knows the Marines is the only branch what still carries the rank of lance…" Gomer's voice trailed off as he realized he'd been duped. "Oops."

"Ah! A Marine! Proud and single-minded. Should have guessed from start."

Gomer's brow furrowed. "You don't insult the Corps like that! You don't even know…" Sensing another trick, he quickly caught himself before he gave anything away. "Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o, two nine three double o."

"What is name of sergeant?"

Gomer stared ahead in ignorance. "Pyle, Gomer…"

"So his name is Pylegomer?"

"No it ain't. That's my name. His is…" Gomer's eyes widened. He'd fallen for the same trick once before, and he'd almost fallen for it again! He turned to the interrogator, his expression stormy. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me! Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o, two nine three double o."

"What camp do you come from? You Marines been bothering my lines for days. Now tell. Where is camp?"

"Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o, two nine three…"

"Double o, yes, yes. I know. What you plan? Who is commander? What you plan?" A note of aggravation crept into the man's voice.

Gomer sniffed. "Like I'm gonna tell you after all the mean things you did to me. Mean things!"

"I apologize for the uncivilized rudeness of my men. Now tell."

"I accept your apology, but I ain't gonna tell you nuthin'. I ain't allowed." Gomer shook his head ruefully.

The interrogator smiled, sensing a window of opportunity. "And why that be?"

Gomer straightened proudly. "Semper fidelis!"

"Huh?" The man frowned, confused.

"Gung ho!"

"Wait! What this mean?"

"Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o…"

The man snarled in disgust. He'd just been getting somewhere when the boy had decided to shut his trapper! He angrily stalked over to one of the guards at the door and whispered in his ear, "Semper fidelis gung ho. Code name for some sort of military operation. Find out as much as you can!"

The guard marched off down the corridor while the interrogator turned back to his charge, a pleased smile on his face. "Tell me more."

Gomer regarded him pensively. "About what?"

"About semper fidelis gung ho."

Gomer smiled. "Oh, that. Those is jus' expressions of the Marine Corps. We say 'em to each other all the time back at camp. It reminds us of what we're representin'."

"You represent secret organization, this semper fidelis gung ho? Is that where you get your orders?"

"Huh?" Gomer cocked his head in confusion. "Semper fidelis an' gung ho ain't people. They's jus' words."

"But what do they mean?!" The man imposed the question with such force that Gomer involuntarily drew back.

"They don't mean nuthin' special! Jus' 'always faithful' an' 'ever'one workin' together,' that's all."

"And that is what you represent?"

"Oh, yes, sir." Gomer nodded and smiled. " 'First to fight for right an' freedom, an' to keep our honor clean.' That's from the Marine Hymn. Want me to teach it to you? It starts out like this: 'From the halls of Mon-ta-zooomer to the shores of Tri-po-lee'…"

The man eyed his prisoner in surprise as he burst into song. How dumb could this man be? Then he grew suspicious. The boy was trying to put something over him! And he'd almost done it, too! Pretending to be so stupid and ignorant…well, _he _would not be fooled!

His eyes narrowed. "Silence!" He yelled, causing Gomer to break off in the middle of the last bar. He pointed to his prisoner accusingly. "You lie to me! Now, I am done being nice! Tell me more about secret organization semper fidelis gung ho!"

"But there ain't no secret organization, honest!" Gomer shook his head sadly. Why did he have the sinking feeling that he'd said too much? _Now _what _could've given this feller the wrong idear? I guess I'd better not say any more, I'm prob'ly already in enough trouble as it is._

Gomer straightened with renewed conviction, staring in front of him at nothing in particular. "Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o, two nine three double o."

"Tell!" The interrogator shouted, motioning to a guard behind Gomer to whack the prisoner across the back of the head with the butt of his rifle.

Stars swam before Gomer's eyes. He fleetingly struggled to keep a grip on his bearings before again staring ahead. "Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o, two nine three double o."

"Tell!" The interrogator yelled at the top of his voice, motioning for the guard to give Gomer no mercy when he hit him.

Gomer slumped forward dangerously, but strained to straighten back up. "Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o, two nine three, double o."

This cycle continued for the better part of half an hour before Gomer finally collapsed to the floor, too dizzy to sit up anymore.

"Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o…" He mumbled, close to passing out.

The interrogator snorted in frustration. "You may win this time, Pylegomer. But I be patient. I _will _win!"

As he turned to go, his prisoner made a strained attempt to speak.

"Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o…"

"Damn you!" The interrogator shouted, kicking him before slamming the cell door shut behind him.


	16. Use Your Head

**Chapter 16**

_Use Your Head_

"Sergeant, we've scouted the area for days. There's no sign of them. Not even a clue!"

Brooks nodded. "All right, then. Dismissed, Private."

As the boy returned to the rest of the men, Corporal Duke Slater's face was a very pale shade of green. "Sarge? What are we going to do now?"

The sergeant made a scribble on his clipboard, not even caring to look up at Duke. "We've wasted enough time on them. Write them off as losses and move on."

"But Sarge!…" Duke stuttered, casting about desperately for some suitable answer. "You were the one who sent Gomer out with that squad! What if you sent them right into danger, and they were all captured?!" _Or worse, _he thought, silently hoping it wasn't so.

"That's their problem, not mine." Brooks began moving off back toward the men.

The heartlessness of his sergeant angered Duke beyond words. He followed the man, his face stormy. "Now, look here. You can't…"

He stopped, his voice trailing off as Brooks turned around and fixed him with a look that left him rooted to the spot.

"I'd kindly appreciate it if you'd remember your place, Corporal." He drawled sarcastically before walking off, not caring to give Duke another thought.

"Yes, Sarge." He murmured meekly, looking sadly at his feet. "I tried, Gome. I really did. All I can do now is hope that you're okay."

-

'Okay' was not a word Gomer would've used to describe himself at that moment. He wasn't enjoying the second week of his stay in the camp. Every day, men had come by to trick, bribe, and torture information out of him. Their antics had left him so disgusted at their behavior that he didn't give them the satisfaction of a single word. All they knew from him was his name, rank and serial number. And, of course, the 'alleged' secret organization Semper Fidelis Gung Ho. He'd been given meager rations every day so he was left hungry, but at least he wasn't starving. He didn't have much else to do besides refuse to talk.

He winced as he felt first his ribcage, then his ankle, then his head. Those Vietnamese sure knew how to bang him about. He felt his beard forlornly, gingerly sitting back against the wall. What was he going to think about, again? Oh, yes. Escape.

As soon as he remembered, he closed his eyes and sighed. He might as well have tried to fly, it was so impossible. Other men had tried unsuccessfully, and had been punished mercilessly for their efforts. Men much stronger and quicker than he. He'd been able to hear of their attempts and how they'd ended up from down the corridors. He didn't stand a chance of escape.

_I'm sorry for neglectin' my duty, Sergeant Carter. I just cain't, _he thought tiredly, ready to fall asleep for a few precious hours before he was interrogated again.

Unabated, Colonel Hanson's words rushed to the forefront of his mind. _"Every Marine ought to be intelligent enough to think…to think…to think…"_

With as much enthusiasm as his mind could muster, Gomer turned himself to the task of thinking over his predicament. Tunneling had been used hundreds of times before…then again, it never worked. Sneaking off unpretentiously was likely to get him shot. No, he'd have to think outside the box if he really wanted to get out of here…

Gomer puzzled himself into a headache after a quarter of an hour of intense concentration. Thinking was hard, almost too hard. Gomer scratched his head and sighed. "Maybe I'll just take a little break an'…" His voice trailed off as he looked down his shirt at the stick-and-rod frame his body had become. Why, it was practically like a skeleton! He tsked sadly. "Terrible, terrible, terrible! I look close to…" The idea struck him with such force that his countenance brightened considerably. "Of course! Juliet!"

He smiled as he thought back to the time when he and Lou Ann were still dating and they'd gone to see the newest version of Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet _at the movie house back home. Young Olivia Hussey had escaped marrying the man she didn't love by pretending she was dead!

Gomer nodded, his eyes hopeful. He certainly could pass for dead in his ghoulish state. "Shazaam! If it worked for her escapin' that feller…then it ought to work for me, too!"

The rest of the evening saw an extremely happy Gomer carefully planning out the means of his escape. A lot would be riding on his ability to think and act on the fly…with the help of a little luck, as well.

-

_Act I comin' up. Make it a good one, _Gomer reminded himself as he waited for his interrogator to come question him. He wasn't much of an actor himself, but he'd have to be flawless in this impromptu performance if he was to have a chance. His heart quickened to think about how precarious his situation was. One little mistake…He swallowed and calmed himself. _Simmer down now. You got to stay in control. You got to think clear._

He bit back a cry of anxiety as he heard the now all-to-familiar footsteps slowly approach his cell. _Come on, now! _He scolded himself sternly. _Make Sergeant Carter proud!_

They had grown louder and louder, becoming almost as loud as the blood roaring in Gomer's ears. He steeled himself and closed his eyes as the door slowly opened.

_This one's for you, Sergeant. Here goes nuthin'…_

_-_

"Anh Dung! Duong!" The man cried as he entered the cell. He looked down at his feet in utter disbelief. His prisoner lay still on the floor, his breakfast untouched. And as far as he could tell, the prisoner wasn't breathing.

"Get up!" He kicked Tu 1719 in the side, but all it succeeded in doing was shoving the prone form over. Beginning to panic, he kicked him harder. "GET UP!"

When there was still no response, he grabbed the full cup of water from the floor and dumped it on the prisoner's head. It received no movement in response.

"Yes, sir?"

"Yes, sir?"

The interrogator turned to see the two men he'd called poke their heads in the doorway. "Get in here, Siamese twins!"

"We are NOT twins!" Anh Dung declared hotly. "We no help people insult us!"

"Never mind," the interrogator waved them off crossly. He pointed in distress. "Prisoner is dead!"

Without a word, Duong knelt beside the prisoner and felt his wrist. "Cold," he murmured, pressing his fingers against the icy skin.

After a minute of tapping his foot impatiently, the interrogator threw his arms out in a wide arc. "Well?"

Duong shook his head. "I feel no pulse."

"Then he is dead." The interrogator shook his head. "Idiots! Now how we find out more of secret organization semper fidelis gung ho! This is _your _fault!"

He turned disgustedly and stormed out of the cell. "Take him away. Bury him out back. Burn all records of prisoner we have. Take uniform. We use it again."

The two men nodded and bent unceremoniously to lift up the still figure and carry him away to the morgue.

What they didn't see as they made the trip was the prisoner open one eye and wink at his fellow inmates as they passed down the rows.

-

"Yeesh!" Anh Dung exclaimed as he peeled the uniform off the prisoner. "He must have starved to death!"

Duong grimaced as he looked over the thin frame. "He just withered away!"

"Come. Let's put this back and get him buried. I don't like looking at him."

As the two voices faded away down the corridor, Gomer tentatively opened one eye, looking around surreptitiously to make sure he was alone. Then he silently jumped to his one foot and started for the door.

He peeked out the opening and quickly shrunk back. There was a guard standing right outside the door! Gomer snapped his fingers in frustration. That wasn't going to work.

He leaned against the wall and thought. He'd made it out of his cell all right. Now he had only to get outside. _How am I goin' to do that? _He thought worriedly.

He suddenly went cold as he heard the voices once again approaching the room. If they came back and found him, he'd be buried alive!

_Come on, now! Think! _He looked about the room desperately. Tables too plain and cabinets too small. No closets. Windows guarded. No place to hide.

He whirled around, his mouth and eyes wide with terror and despair. The men were right outside the door!

-

"I still say we sneak to USO show. Girls they have are pretty. And they take off clothes." Anh Dung was saying as they reentered the morgue, eating a candy bar messily.

"But that means you can't catcall and must watch from bushes. Stripping no fun when men can't catcall. And bushes are uncomfortable!" Duong grimaced.

"But is better than our shows. Girls no fun at our shows."

"Turn noses up at us dinky servicemen. Yet they all over 'hunky' American GIs." Duong frowned. "Is no fair."

Anh Dung turned and stared. "Where he go?"

"Where who go?"

"Our body!"

Duong looked and realized his friend was right. The morgue was empty. "Where it go? Anh Dung, go search!"

His companion started checking all the cabinets, peering under tables and countertops, still eating his candy bar. "Here, body body body. Here, body. Where you go?"

Duong sighed impatiently. "The body can't hear you!"

"Oh, right." Anh Dung shrugged. "You never know. It might help." He turned back to his fruitless search. "Here, body…"

He jumped back with a yelp as a rat scurried out from under one of the tables. "Ahh!"

"It's a rat," Duong said flatly.

"Rats nasty! And diseased! And they eat my food!" Anh Dung frowned. "We need mousetraps."

"Keep looking, keep looking!" Duong gestured impatiently.

"I don't see you doing anything!"

"I don't have to! I'm in charge of watching you. So that is what I do. Watch you work."

"Is not fair." Anh Dung grumbled, checking the windows. "But…body could not get up and walk. Someone else probably took body."

Duong inclined his head. "We go check with Dac Kien. He always picking up things and bury them."

Anh Dung nodded. "Okay. Let me throw this away first." He held up his candy wrapper as he lifted the lid to the trashcan. He was about to look down and toss it in when the interrogator appeared at the door. He sharply addressed them, causing the two men to turn their full attention on him.

"Idiots! Get a move on! I need your help! Tu 2315 is being especially stubborn, but I think we'll get something out of him yet. What I need you to do…"

As he rambled on, Anh Dung failed to notice a hand reaching up from within the trashcan, gingerly pulling the wrapper from his fingers. It quickly sneaked back inside while the other hand gently pulled the lid back down over the top.

"Come!" The interrogator finally disappeared, forcing Duong and Anh Dung to follow.

As soon as they had left, Gomer breathed a sigh of relief. For now, he was forgotten. And as soon as the trash man came, he would be able to exit the building unnoticed.

He looked down at the rat in his lap and held the half-eaten candy bar out to him. "It's all right, Ambrose. That feller was jus' scared of you, that's all. You hungry? You gotta be. There ain't much food round here for people, let alone little critters like you."

As the rat began nibbling on the chocolate, Gomer gently stroked its head. "See? I knew you was. An' whatever you don't eat, I will. I'm hungry, too."

-

He didn't have to wait very long for the trash collector. Before Gomer even knew what was happening, there was a grunt as he was lifted off of the ground and slowly carried outside. It was an unsafe journey, many times making Gomer fear the can would tip over and he'd fall out. He was thankful when it was finally thrown back down to the ground with a dull thud.

"Heavy can," a voice above his head murmured before retreating footsteps sounded in Gomer's ears.

He cautiously lifted up the lid and peered about, making sure the garbage man had made it all the way back inside. There was no one around. The intoxicating wave of fresh air filled his lungs, exiting Gomer so much that he was trembling. Free, he was finally free!

But not out of the woods yet. Not by half! Gomer quickly ordered his mind back into submission, reminding himself of his mission. Sliding the lid off, he slowly got up and stepped over the trashcan. Of course, his other foot caught on the rim and the whole can came crashing down, sending him to the ground with it.

Sucking in his breath, he quickly looked up to make sure the sound had not aroused anyone. He'd _had _to catch his bad ankle on the can! It hurt like nothing else. Gomer had to cover his mouth to keep from crying out.

He lay there for another minute, making sure all was still before he slowly stood, shifting all his weight to his right foot. He grimaced and looked down. Another problem presented itself; he was clad in nothing but his underwear.

"Well, I guess I'm jus' gonna have to find some clothes," he murmured, slowly moving off in search of apparel.

-

Gomer ducked behind a bush bordering the edge of the camp as he heard voices from nearby growing louder. They were chattering in Vietnamese, so he was clueless as to what they were saying. He forced himself to keep very still, watching the approaching figures conspicuously from behind his cover.

The men were dirty and tired. One set a bag down on the ground while the other threw down a shovel beside it. Their voices had an angry tone, almost as if they were arguing with each other. Their voices drifted away as they trudged off in the direction of the showers.

As soon as they were gone, Gomer quietly came out of his hiding spot and knelt beside the pack one of the men had discarded. He sadly shook his head. "I hate to do this, but…I gotta borrow your clothes, feller! I promise to give 'em back to you!"

With that conviction in mind, Gomer gingerly opened the pack and pulled out the clothes lying inside. He quickly donned them, picking up the shovel resting on the ground by his feet. He reached up and brushed his hair so it fell over his eyes, hiding his American ethnicity. He still sported a beard, but that couldn't be helped.

"This sure is a funny-lookin' hat." He murmured as he tentatively put it on. He looked down, assessing his person. "Hope I don't stick out too much." The clothing was of course far too small for him. The shirt wouldn't button, the sleeves barely reaching over his elbows. The pants stopped short of his shins, leaving his lower legs and feet bare. His left foot hung slightly above the ground, sending all the support to his right.

"O' anh!"

Gomer turned around and paled. He felt his knees knock together and goosebumps form on his arms. There, not ten feet away, his interrogator was striding right toward him!

"Anh kia, ten anh la gi?" The interrogator stopped and stood before him, assuming a haughty air as he waited for an answer.

_I don't know no Vietnamese, _Gomer thought worriedly, relaxing only a tad as he realized the interrogator didn't recognize him. _But Duke done learned some. Where's Duke when you need him?_

As he stood there dumbly, not sure whether or not he should say anything, the interrogator shrugged impatiently. "Ban a gi lam?"

Gomer carefully lowered his left foot to the ground, making sure not to put any weight on it. _Please stop starin' at me like that, _he thought. But his mouth was dry.

The interrogator sighed at Gomer's silence, his face stormy. "Tro lai de lam viec." He pointed to the west sharply.

Gomer cocked his head in confusion. _Is this feller tryin' to tell me to go somewheres?_

"Su' chuyen dong!" The interrogator took a menacing step forward, pointing again.

Without a word, Gomer hurried off in the direction the man had indicated, trying to conceal his hops as much as he could.

_Something not right with that one, _the interrogator thought, his eyes narrowing at the retreating back. Why did there seem to be something so familiar about him?

He shrugged it off. He knew most of the men on the camp by sight, and most of the time, sight alone. He must have seen him somewhere before. Suddenly, the realization of the man's identity dawned on him and he nodded. "Yes…yes, that is man who makes rice in mess hall! One with gimp leg!"

Smiling in self-satisfaction, he turned back and headed inside. It wasn't until he'd reached the doorway that his brows knitted together in a worried frown. "But what would rice man be doing with shovel?"

-

Gomer concentrated on each step in front of him, moving along as quickly as he could with one foot. _I'm almost there. If I could jus' make it to them trees over there, I…_

"Anh kia!"

_Not again! _Gomer stopped and resignedly turned in the direction of the voice.

Standing about a hundred yards off was a different man, who was standing apart from and yelling at a group of men dressed similarly to Gomer. They all carried shovels…and they were heading right for the jungle!

Grinning happily, Gomer waved in acknowledgment and began hobbling toward the group. Getting out of the camp was going to be easier than he'd originally thought!

Tro lai de lam vic!" The man called as Gomer fell into line with the rest of the men. He naturally fell into step with them, slumping his shoulders so he wouldn't appear so much taller than the rest of them.

It made for a funny picture, all of the men walking in step single file. All were dressed exactly the same and each carried a shovel over his shoulder. They were all about the same height except for Gomer, who was a good head and shoulders taller than them, even when he was slouching. All of their clothes fit closely except for Gomer's. He stuck out like a sore thumb. His limping hop didn't help matters, either.

The overseer's eyes narrowed at their retreating backs. _Something wrong…but what? _He shrugged and followed them out of the camp, calling out orders in his native tongue as he went along.

They eventually came to an open field where the men stopped and started digging. Shrugging, Gomer began to do the same.

_I wonder what we're diggin' for? Maybe it's a treasure chest, like in that one movie with Robert Newton!_

The day slowly waned and the men refused to relent in their task. Gomer was starting to wonder if they'd ever take a break when he felt something flitter across his toes.

He looked down and smiled. "Hey, Ambrose! What're you doin' all the way out here?"

The men paused to stare at Gomer as he knelt to the ground to stroke his furry friend. The man wasn't only speaking in a foreign language, he had a strange, Southern drawl to boot!

"Was you hopin' I'd have some sort of candy bar for you again?" Gomer laughed softly and picked up the varmint. "Well, I don't got nuthin' right now, but I'll find somethin' for you later if you'd like."

Slowly, he looked up to find the overseer and the rest of the men staring at him incredulously. He smiled and waved uncertainly. "H-hey there."

"Chau my! Ma vu'o'ng!" The overseer declared hotly, pointing at Gomer accusingly. The other men yelled, running toward him with their shovels raised.

Eyes wide, Gomer scooped up his pet and hopped toward the jungle as quickly as he could.

"Now look what you've done, Ambrose! You done got me in trouble!" Gomer panted as he made way for the cover of the trees.

A gunshot rang out behind him and he automatically dove to the ground. Doing so took him back to the days of his Marine training.

_"Conceal yourself…conceal yourself…conceal yourself," _Sergeant Carter had said time and again. Gomer nodded. That was the only way he was going to get out of this mess alive. "Hold on a minute, Ambrose," he murmured, pulling a bunch of branches off of the nearest bush.

He quickly finished camouflaging his hat and grimaced at the too-short clothes he wore. It was times like these when he missed his green fatigues!

"Well, Ambrose…Gran'ma Pyle always says, 'don't be wistful, you jus' gotta make do with what God done give you.' An' well, this is all He gave me to work with right now. So it's jus' gotta make do." Smiling at his reasoning, Gomer picked the rat back up and moved slowly through the trees in a hopping crouch.

It wasn't long before he knew his enemies had entered the jungle. They crashed through the brush, shouting and running loudly. Their sounds and movements alerted Gomer to their presence. The chase was on.

-

Gomer hopped steadily, efficiently concealed from his enemies. He held Ambrose in his hands as he slowly made progress through the trees. But the shouting voices were growing closer and closer by the minute!

Suddenly, he tripped over a vine lying in his path and crashed down hard to the ground. His left ankle twisted sharply to the side and he yelped in pain.

"What am I gonna do now, Ambrose?" He panted in despair. "They ain't too far behind now! They're gonna catch me, they're gonna catch me an' kill me dead, I know it!"

The rat just wriggled out of Gomer's grasp and scurried over to the accursed vine, nibbling on it hungrily.

"This ain't no time to eat, Ambrose. We got to figure out how…" A memory suddenly smote Gomer at that moment. He smiled. "Shazaam! Why didn't I think of that? You're right, Ambrose! If it worked before, why won't it work now?" Gomer carefully turned around and propped himself up, gathering vines off of the jungle floor.

"Find him!" The overseer cried, stopping to listen before dashing down another path in hot pursuit of his prey. He was running in full stride when he felt something cold and wet tighten around his ankle. He was jerked off of his feet and into the air.

"What the…?" He exclaimed, staring at the world from upside down incredulously. Two of the men who had followed him were hoisted up alongside him by identical traps.

The overseer's quarry then limped out from behind the bushes, the rat positioned protectively on his shoulder. His wide brown eyes looked up at them and he smiled through his wild dark hair and beard. "See what happens to the hunters what got no reason to hunt?" He shrugged and continued on down the path happily, leaving the trapped overseer yelling in his wake.

_I really ought to send some fellers out to take them down when I get back to camp. It cain't be too pleasant, hangin' upside down like that real long. _Gomer dragged his bad foot along the ground behind him, feeling bad for the men he'd had to leave behind. Ambrose scurried down his arm and into his palm. He looked down at the animal and smiled. "You're right, Ambrose. First thing's first. We gotta get them fellers outta that prison."

But those three men weren't the only ones Gomer would have to deal with. And his sprained ankle was becoming more of a burden by the second…

-

His foot started hurting him so bad that it wasn't long before Gomer had to stop again. He remembered seeing some episode of 'Gilligan's Island' in which the castaways had captured some Marubi natives with a rock trap. Why wouldn't the same work here?

Gomer carefully laid another vine across the path, attaching it to a stick that held up a pile of rocks precariously perched atop a rock outcropping. He smiled up at the trap and nodded. "That oughta hold 'em."

He pulled himself several feet ahead of the trap and stopped when his left toe brushed a rock lying in the path. "Ow!" His eyes watered as he clutched the sore foot.  
He'd agitated the swelling once too often. He couldn't check his feelings any longer.

His cries alerted the remaining diggers to his location, sending them running toward him. Gomer heard their shouts grow closer and closer. He knew that if the trap backfired, he would not be able to get away from them in time. He grew anxious, biting his lip. He hated to think about what would happen to him when they found him.

_It won't work, I jus' know it! It won't work an' they'll recapture me an' they'll kill me dead, I know it!_

Cradled in his palm, Ambrose hissed as the vine snapped and the rocks came crashing down across the path.

"It worked, Ambrose! It really did work!" Gomer smiled happily, breathing a sigh of relief. But Ambrose knew otherwise. The fur on his back was raised and he squealed threateningly.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Gomer slowly followed the rat's gaze to the rock pile and his face fell. He hadn't trapped his captors at all! All he'd really succeeded in doing was catching a snake by the tail!

Tucking the rat carefully into his pocket, Gomer dragged himself over to the pile. He shook his head sadly at the snake, which hissed and trashed about violently in an effort to free itself from the rocks. "I'm sorry, Mr. Snake. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was someone else I was tryin' to trap. Here, you jus' calm down now an' I'll get you out." He gently stroked the snake's head, singing softly as he slowly moved the rocks out away from the snakes' tail. "Go tell Aunt Rhody, go tell Aunt Rhody, go tell Aunt Rhody the old gray goose is dead…"

Before long, the snake was free. It slithered into Gomer's lap in gratitude. Gomer petted him carefully. "That's right. I didn't mean you no harm. An' I'm real sorry. You're a nice snake, aren't you? You don't got no fangs like those mean snakes. Cause if one of them bit someone, then they'd start feelin' real dizzy an' sick-like, an' about fifteen minutes later they'd be dead. That's how we cain tell if you're poisonous or not. Hey, now!" He scolded gently as he moved the snake's head away from his pocket. "You cain't have Ambrose."

The snake slithered out of his lap and off into the jungle.

Gomer waved. "Goodbye, Mr. Snake!" He looked down and pulled the rat out of his pocket. "It's okay to come out now, Ambrose. He's gone."

Suddenly, a shout erupted from behind the pile. Gomer looked up in startled fear. In his preoccupation, he'd forgotten all about the men who were hunting him down. And the snake had ruined the trap! Gomer stared up at them, wide-eyed, frozen in utter terror.

"Ma vu'o'ng!" The men cried, gesturing to run around the pile into the bushes in order to reach their quarry.

Gomer's mind was a blank. All he could see were the shovels the men were waving. And they were so close he could touch them if he wanted to…

He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the moment to come. _I'm sorry, Sergeant Carter. For lettin' you down. I really tried, honest I did! I'm sorry, Duke. I never did get to tell you about my leave. I'm sorry, Vincent. You deserve to have a daddy. I'm sorry, Lou Ann. I love you…_

Moments passed. Nothing happened. Gomer tentatively opened his eyes and was amazed by what he saw. The bushes weren't empty. His pursuers had run headlong into a community of bees!

"Con ongs!" One exclaimed, feebly trying to ward them off with his shovel.

"Chung ta hay roi khoi o day!" Another cried fearfully.

Before Gomer knew what had happened, the men had turned around and fled back the way they came.

Gomer sat there another moment, staring dumbly where they'd just been before realizing that he'd escaped. "I did it, Ambrose. Somehow or other, I got lucky. I made it out. All I got to do now is get back to camp." He looked down and saw his rat friend drifting slowly toward a pack of other rats. He smiled. "Looks like you done found your family again, Ambrose."

He pushed himself upright. "Well, goodbye now. An' I couldn't have made it out without you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

He may have been delusional out of hunger or pain, but Gomer could've sworn the rat turned around and winked at him before disappearing into the jungle.

-

Duke Slater perched on his combat helmet, scrubbing vigorously at his rifle. Sweat beaded his forehead and he frowned, deeply concentrated on the task at hand.

Across the way, several of the men sat and talked about the near mishap of Apollo 13. It was only a few days ago they had received word about the mission going horribly wrong. An explosion in the service module of the craft caused the loss of both oxygen tanks and all electrical power. Amazingly, though, NASA had been able to return the faulty aircraft to Earth, and the astronauts aboard whose lives had been in peril had returned to become heroes. It all seemed so fantastic, that we were so far along that we were able to send men to the moon and back. Yet, Apollo 13 had served to remind everyone that it was still new frontier, with many dangers and numerous things that could still go wrong. It was this the men debated while Duke listened, deciding he could still hear what it was all about and get his work done at the same time.

It was several minutes before he heard the hoarse whisper that spoke his name.

"Duke!"

Slater looked up and searched the perimeter of the camp. There, not ten feet away, sat a figure in tight, soiled and torn clothes, waving his hand furiously. The funny hat he wore on his head was covered with foliage. With his wild hair and ragged beard, it took Duke a minute to recognize the figure.

"Gomer?" He started in surprise.

"It's me, all right." The man sported the goofy grin that Duke knew only too well.

"Gomer! What are you doing here? We all took you for dead!" He rushed over to his friend, crouching down next to him on the ground.

"I was captured. An' I…I jus' escaped."

"That's what I thought. How was it? Number ten?"

"More like ten thousand," Gomer panted tiredly. "Cain you help me out an' bring me in? I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure," Duke carefully placed Gomer's arm over his shoulders and helped haul his friend to his feet. Stumbling, they haltingly made their way back to Duke's helmet, where he carefully sat Gomer down on top of it.

"I won't try to ask you about it now. You look starved!" He exclaimed, rummaging through his pack for the condensed first aid kit each Marine was expected to carry. "Tell me, where do you hurt?"

Gomer shook his head. "Jus' my ankle, that's all. But I got somethin' real important to tell you."

Duke looked up to see Gomer wince as his gingerly applied an astringent to the area. "That's really hurting you, Gome. You'd better get this thing checked out by the doc."

Gomer shook his head. "Ain't nuthin'." He leaned down to whisper in his friend's ear, "What'd I miss?"

Duke laughed. "Gosh, Gomer! All we did was look for you and wait around for further orders. Which we haven't got yet." He added quickly.

"That's all right, then. I got somethin' real important to tell the Sergeant." Gomer murmured tightly.

"Gome, we got to get you help! Some food, some clothes, get that ankle looked at. You can talk to the Sarge later!" Duke turned and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Bac si!"

"Duke, I gotta tell him! I jus' gotta!" Gomer protested.

"Tell him what?"

"About the enemy camp! We gotta get them fellers out of that place, Duke! We jus' gotta!"

"Whoa!" Duke stared up at his friend for a long moment. "Are you talking about invading an enemy camp to free all the POWs?" Gomer, are you crazy?!" He turned and yelled louder for a doctor.

"Please, Duke, we gotta, we jus' gotta!" Tears brimmed the corners of Gomer's eyes, his voice dangerously close to breaking.

Hearing the desperation in his friend's plea, Duke blanched. "Ten thousand…no joke?"  
Gomer nodded. "Honest, Duke!"

He thought about it for a minute before decisively shaking his head. "First thing's first, buddy. You look like a spook! I'm not going to rest until we bring you back from the land of the dead!"

"But I'm all right, Duke! Them fellers…"

"Look, you're not all right, okay? You're worse off than you think, Gomer! In more ways than one!" Duke hastily stood, glaring his friend down before stalking off in search of the elusive doctor.

-

"Pyle's back?!" Brooks cried, eying the corporal dubiously.

"That's what I thought so too, Sarge. I couldn't believe it myself."

"That skate couldn't escape a war prison if he tried! Some of the most intelligent men have tried it and failed!"

"I don't know how he did it, but he did it, all right." Duke nodded emphatically. "You ought to see him, Sarge. He's in bad shape. Looks like he's been to Hell and back!"

"I don't care where he went! If he's hurt, get the corpsman to look him over." Brooks waved the issue away dismissively. "What I want to know is what he found out! How many people really do inhabit that enemy camp? Where'd you leave him?"

"Over by my bedroll. But Sarge, I don't think you oughta be asking him all these questions like that! If you just think of what he's been through…"

"Corporal, we've all cheated death and lived to tell the tale. The boy's absolutely useless until we get what we want to know outta him!"

As Brooks stalked away, Duke watched him go and shook his head. Gomer had just escaped one interrogator…only to run headlong into another one!

-

Gomer struggled to his feet, leaning against a tree to remain standing as he saw Sergeant Brooks approach him.

"Good God, don't you know how to take care of yourself?" Brooks grumbled as he caught sight of him. "What are we? Animals or men?"

"Sergeant Brooks, there's somethin' I want to talk to you about. Somethin' real important."

"Quit giving your sarge disrespect and listen here close. You'd better have gotten a good estimate on that troop's sizes or…"

"Scuse me, Sergeant. I ain't meanin' you no disrespect. But we got to help all them fellers still in prison. The camp ain't big. We could take 'em real easy. An' there's a few fellers I left tied up in the woods. We'd better get back and take 'em down 'fore all the blood rushes to their heads. That ain't any fun. You ever had that happen to you? I tried it in my Gran'ma Pyle's oak tree when I was four years old. I done got so dizzy I fell an' broke my arm. What if one of them fellers did that? Wouldn't that be terrible, though? An' I got to give these clothes back to the feller I borrowed them from. After all, I promised him I'd give 'em back."

Brooks stood, dazed for a second before he slowly snapped out of it. "How…?" He shook his head in amazement. "How'd you do it?"

Gomer thought long and hard for a minute before he grinned and shrugged. "I jus' used my head, I reckon."


	17. Blast From the Past

**Chapter 17**

_Blast from the Past_

Duke smiled up at his friend as Gomer sat down on the ground beside him, toweling off his now clean-shaven face. His hair was combed away from his eyes and he'd gotten sufficient food back in his stomach. His ankle, which had turned out to be nothing more than a bad sprain, stuck out proudly in its clean, white bandage. He'd gotten a new uniform and boots to replace the old ones he'd lost at the prison camp.

"Hey, Gome. Lookin' more like yourself already."

"Mmm." Gomer frowned as he set about tying the laces of his right boot.

"What's the matter?"

"He ain't lettin' me go."

Duke shrugged. "And why should you? You couldn't keep up."

"But I gotta make sure I get my things back, an' all them fellers is set free, an' the one feller gets his clothes back, an'…"

"Gomer. It's not something you can decide. We're not leaving you behind because you shouldn't go. It's because you can't. You'd be more of a hindrance to our mission if you tagged along."

Gomer slowly shook his head. "No, Duke. This ain't a matter of what I cain an' cain't do. It's what I have to do."

-

They didn't let him go.

But that didn't stop Gomer from hobbling along behind them on one crutch. Haltingly, he was able to make his way there without incident. By the time he'd gotten there, the platoon had spread out and began their descent on the camp.

Gomer smiled and waved when he caught sight of his friend sneaking up on the two men that had captured him. "Hey, Duke!"

Slater looked up and groaned. _"Go-mer!" _He listlessly shoved his rifle into the back of one of the men, causing him to shoot ten feet in the air.

Gomer stopped waving and frowned in confusion. Duke had made it sound like he'd done something wrong, yet the whole camp was now aware of the platoon and was surrendering unconditionally!

When the interrogator raised the white flag, Gomer cheered the loudest of them all.

-

Sergeant Brooks had grudgingly given Gomer the keys to go down the rows of the prison and unlock the doors of all the American GIs being held within.

His progress was slow because of his handicap, but Gomer didn't mind. The smile on his face was only outshined by those of the men whom he set free.

"Hey, Will! I told you I'd get us out of here…You okay, Jim? We got some fellers outside what'll give you all the help you need…Hey, Walker! We're free again! Wake up!…Did they break your nose, John? Here, I got a pocketknife you cain use as a splint right now till we get back to camp…"

Before he knew it, he'd come to the cell that had held him captive for two long weeks. It was still unoccupied from when he'd been carried out of it. Slowly, he opened the door and hobbled inside.

He didn't pause but headed straight for the rear corner of the cell. Lowering himself cautiously, he began digging away at the dirt until he came upon his buried items.

He took off the helmet he wore and placed his troll, letters and photos back in their rightful spot. The embroidery scissors he carefully tucked back inside his boot. The unopened envelope of pictures Colonel Hanson had given him went into his breast pocket while he carefully replaced his wedding band on its rightful finger. Ceremoniously, he lifted his dogtags out of the hole and hung them back around his neck, smiling as he tucked them underneath his shirt. He sighed happily. "It sure does feel good to be home again!"

-

"Come on, Gomer! Quit playing around, will ya?"

Gomer smiled at Duke and held up the envelope of pictures mysteriously. "You really wanna see now?"

"Yes! And if you don't, I'm gonna grab it out of your hands and open it for you!" Duke reached up for it, but Gomer held it high above his head.

The men were back at camp and Duke was just as anxious as Gomer to see the pictures of the baby. All Gomer had disclosed about his eventful leave was that Lou Ann had given birth to a healthy baby boy. And he was being frustratingly slow about opening the envelope!

"All right." Gomer relented, sitting down on his helmet. Duke followed suit, peering over his friend's shoulder intently.

Carefully, Gomer opened the flap and pulled out the snapshots enclosed within its folds. Just glimpsing at the one on top made him instantly homesick. He trembled as he pointed to it, trying to keep his voice from wavering. "That's him."

Duke smiled at the photograph. "He's a cute little guy." He clapped his friend on the back. "What's his name?"

Gomer instantly swelled with pride. "Vincent. Vincent Gomer Pyle."

Duke laughed. "You would name your kid after Sergeant Carter, wouldn't you?" He pointed to the picture happily. "Look at that. He has your eyes."

"Really?" Gomer looked into them and laughed. "No wonder they seemed so familiar-like!"

He flipped to the next picture, which was one of Vincent lying in his hospital crib.

"He's so small!" Duke exclaimed. "Just think, Gome…he's your son. You helped bring that little guy to life." To him, it was still hard to imagine his best friend as a parent.

"Ain't he somethin', though?" Gomer smiled, blinking to keep his tears from spilling over.

As he flipped to the last one, Gomer started crying. In the photo, Lou Ann was smiling radiantly at the camera as she proudly held up her newborn son.

"That's your family," Duke said gently, his hand on his friend's shoulder.

Gomer sniffed. "They…they're beautiful." He turned to Duke, a pained expression on his face. "I miss 'em."

"Of course you do. Who wouldn't, buddy?" Duke patted him reassuringly.

Gomer sighed wistfully as he looked down again at the picture. He wondered what his wife and son were doing right at that very moment…

-

"Tragedy struck at Kent State when National Guardsmen fired into a group of students, wounding nine and killing four. This happened shortly after the students burned down an ROTC building in protest of the Vietnam War…"

Lou Ann laughed as she tickled her son on the floor in front of the television, drowning out the rest of the newscaster's report.

The baby gurgled, which the mother took to be a laugh. She gently picked him up, cooing to him softly. "Did my little Vinny think that was funny? Huh? You're a clever little boy!"

Lou Ann turned her head and breathed deeply into the sleeve of her shirt. She was wearing one of Gomer's plaid short sleeve button-ups over a pair of slacks. She'd found the clothes he usually wore on leave in the closet that morning and had decided to wear one of his shirts. They still smelled like him. It made Lou Ann warm and content to be wearing his shirt. It helped her feel closer to him.

"Oh, my darlin' baby!" Lou Ann gently hugged the boy to her, stroking the fuzzy new hair emerging on his head. It was going to be as black as her husband's. She laughed and gazed down into the all-too-familiar brown eyes. "I love you, Vinny."

A swift knock came at the door before Bunny walked in without waiting. "Good morning, Lou Ann. How are you this morning?"

"Wonderful!" Lou Ann smiled up at her visitor. "The little dear an' I jus' woke up."

Bunny turned in the direction of the television, which was still tuned to the news. She nodded at the story being shown on the screen. "Isn't that terrible, though?"

"What's terrible?" Lou Ann stood and walked over to her friend, cradling Vincent in her arms lovingly.

"Those shootings at that university in Ohio." Bunny held up the morning's paper. "It's everywhere you look in the news."

"It seems like such a shame things had to end up like that." Lou Ann sighed sadly. "But people cain't understand. They jus' don't understand my Gomer is…"

"I know, dear. I know." Bunny looked over Lou Ann's shoulder at the baby. "How's Little Vince been?"

Lou Ann smiled and shook her head. "He's been such an angel."

"No trouble from him?"

"Not yet." Lou Ann looked up as the wall clock struck eleven. "Uh-oh. Eleven hundred. Time to go see Daddy." Lou Ann held the baby up, slowly making her way back to the bedroom. "We're gonna go see Daddy. You wanna go see Daddy?" She cooed. Bunny followed, puzzled as to what Lou Ann was talking about.

She entered the bedroom to find Lou Ann standing before the bureau, holding the baby's chubby arm out to the photographs displayed on top. Bunny smiled as she realized the framed pictures were of Gomer.

"It's Daddy. Yes. Daddy." Lou Ann murmured softly in a singsong voice. "Say hi to Daddy."

The baby emitted a high-pitched cry, making Lou Ann laugh. "Daddy loves you very, very much."

"You do this every morning?"

Lou Ann turned to Bunny and smiled. "Oh, yes. I cain't let little Vincent go without seein' his father ever' day. After all, it's important for him to know he has a father, even if he ain't here." She waved her son's arm up and down. "Say bye-bye to Daddy. Say bye-bye. You'll see Daddy again tomorrow." She looked back over her shoulder at Bunny. "Our pediatrician told me to use lots of basic words with him, even at his age. Teachin' him as much as I cain all the time is real beneficial for his development." She nuzzled the little boy gently. "You wanna see Godmama? Let's go see Godmama. Say hi to Godmama."

Bunny took him in her arms and laughed. "Hello, Vincent. You're a good little boy. Yes, you're a very good little boy." She suddenly looked up at the child's mother. "Oh, I almost forgot why I came up here! You didn't pick up your mail from yesterday, so I thought I'd bring it up to you. Something interesting was shipped to you the other day, as I found out."

"A letter from Gomer?" Lou Ann's face lit up. "I ain't heard from him in the longest time!"

Bunny shook her head and nodded to a package lying on the coffee table. "Special delivery from Mayberry, North Carolina."

"Well, I wonder what that could be?" Lou Ann sat and carefully began opening the box, heedful of the word 'FRAGILE' printed across the top in red letters.

She pulled a letter out and unfolded it curiously. She smiled when she saw the signature. "Why, it's from Gran'ma Pyle! What a nice surprise!"

"What does she say?" Bunny sat down, holding Vincent carefully in her arms.

"Here's what she wrote:

" 'Dear Lou Ann,

" 'How are you and how's my great-grandbaby? Have you heard anything from Gomer lately or is he still over in that dangerous place? I don't trust that Nixon fella one bit. Things do not bode well for him, I'm afraid. His stars are aligned for grave danger.'"

She paused from her reading and looked up, her features taut with worry. "I wish she'd quit sayin' things like that. It's like she thinks the universe is plannin' for him to get…"

"Don't mind what she says. She's just a superstitious old woman." Bunny hastily intervened. "I'm sure he's perfectly all right. Nobody believes in star signs anymore, anyway. Here, keep reading."

Lou Ann shrugged ruefully and resumed where she'd left off. " 'Anyway, I happened to think of you when I stumbled across this old photograph when I was cleanin' out my attic. So I sent it to you.'" She looked inside the box and gingerly pulled out the weathered picture from its packaging. Holding it up to the light, she gasped. "Oh, my goodness!"

She looked down into the faded, dog-eared photograph and saw none other than Gomer. But it couldn't be. He had the same pie-eyes and dark hair, but he was dressed in a neatly pressed Confederate uniform. He had a faraway, eerie look to his face, as if he were just starting to realize what he'd gotten himself into.

"Who is that?" Bunny asked, peering over her shoulder.

Lou Ann shook her head. "I don't know. Don't he look like Gomer, though?" She looked down at the letter and read Grandma Pyle's explanation. " 'Looks like Gomer, don't he? Only his sideburns is just a tad longer and he's a bit broader-shouldered, like Gomer's pa. But otherwise just like him. Anyway, this is Drayton Pyle, Gomer's great-great-granddaddy. Drayton was the son of Prescott Pyle, who once owned and successfully turned over two thousand acres of a plantation in North Carolina. The land had been bestowed to Prescott's father, Clayton Pyle, by Washington himself as a reward for his bravery and patriotism serving in the Continental Army during the American Revolution. Prescott was such an old sissy that they thought he might not even produce an heir. But he did, though, and finally got Drayton in 1829 at the ripe old age of forty-eight. Drayton is pictured here at the time of his enlistment in the Confederate Army: April 22, 1861.'"

She suddenly closed her eyes, bringing a hand to her chest. Bunny looked up from coddling Vincent and frowned in concern. "What's wrong?"

"April twenty-second. A month after the baby's birthday," Lou Ann whispered quietly.

Bunny smiled. "How about that? One month after the very day he was born, his ancestor joined up in the civil war one hundred and nine years ago. That's really neat, Lou Ann. What's got you so upset?"

Lou Ann smiled at Bunny, suddenly realizing how silly she'd been. "I guess the coincidence caught me by surprise, is all."

"Now, Lou Ann. Grandma Pyle and her superstitious omens have got you all stirred up. You've got to ignore it or it's going to get you paranoid."

Lou Ann nodded and returned to the letter. " 'Drayton was a young man, about thirty-two, and newly married when he joined up. This was exactly a week after the taking of Fort Sumter, what started the war. He joined Wade Hampton's South Carolina legion in the hopes of seeing active service right away. Did the poor man ever. He was a part of the legion's successful campaign until he was'…" Lou Ann swallowed and continued, " '…killed at First Manassas. His wife had her child two months after his death. A boy. Jackson Pyle, named for the Confederate hero of First Manassas, is my husband's father. After the Army's defeat in 1865, Union troops invaded and occupied North Carolina like a swarm of locusts, and Mayberry was no exception. Drayton's poor wife lost her house when the taxes skyrocketed and they lived in a boarding house for the longest time. Can you imagine? Eventually, by 1876, the troops had gone back where they'd come from, and good riddance. Soon as he was old enough, Jackson got himself a job working for the county sheriff and built himself a new house in Mayberry. It was his hard work that saved our family from falling into disgrace and oblivion after those Yankees came in and destroyed everything. And by 1880, the Pyles once more had a firm footing in Mayberry society. Now, Grandpa Pyle was born to Jackson and his wife in 1885. The rest from there is history. We were married in 1907 and Otis up and joined the cavalry in 1917, following in the footsteps of his daddy, who'd served in the US cavalry during the Spanish-American War. You've probably heard Otis tell the story. Jackson planted the flag on San Juan Hill, he did. But anyway, Gomer's daddy was born to us in 1909. He had a hard time strikin' out on his own, but he made it through the Depression and we were all rewarded with Gomer being borned in 1938.

" 'This, I hope, explains Gomer's connection to Drayton. He comes down a long line of proud Pyles. Just take Otis for instance! So you see, the military service runs very strong in the family's vein. Drayton died in a fight that was his, a cause that was his. I just hope that Gomer doesn't go the same way as Drayton, only fighting a war that ain't his to fight.

" 'Well, seeing as how similar Drayton and Gomer was, I thought I'd give you the picture and send you this write-up on the family history. Please write back to tell me how my great-grandbaby's doing. After reading this, I guess you know he has some pretty big shoes to fill.

" 'Signed, Grandma Pyle.'" Lou Ann put down the letter and held the picture up again. "It's a shame he got killed like that, leavin' his poor young family to fend for themselves in such terrible times." A sudden shiver went down Lou Ann's spine. If she took out the part about getting killed, didn't the same things apply to Gomer?

She gently brushed her fingers over the image, looking deeply into the figure's bright, inquisitive eyes. Maybe Drayton and Gomer were closer than she'd originally thought…

Suddenly, Bunny's husband burst through the door, slamming it shut behind him. "Bun! There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

Startled by the sudden intrusion, the baby in Bunny's arms began to wail incessantly.

Bunny frowned at Sergeant Carter as she stood up indignantly. "Vince! Look what you did! You scared him!"

Lou Ann sighed. "Here. Let me take him."

Bunny handed Vincent off to his mother, who rocked him gently. "Shh. Did Vinny get startled by a little slammin' door? Did he? Hush, now. Ever'thing's all right. Yes."

Despite her efforts to soothe him, Vincent continued to cry at the top of his little voice.

Lou Ann frowned. "Maybe he's cold. I'll go heat up a blanket for him."

"I'll help." Bunny shot her husband a murderous glance before stalking into the kitchen.

"Could you hold him, Sergeant Carter? It'll only be a minute." Lou Ann tiredly handed over the screaming baby to Carter.

"But…" Carter's protest trailed off as the baby suddenly grew silent in his arms.

Lou Ann smiled. "Well, look. He's fine now."

Sergeant Carter snorted. "Here. Take him."

But as soon as he was back in his mother's arms, Vincent began crying as though his heart would break.

"You calmed him down before." Lou Ann murmured, handing him back to Carter.

Once more in the sergeant's arms, the baby fell silent.

Bunny smiled at the exchange in satisfaction. "Well Vince, you've finally put yourself to good use."

"What…?" Carter looked down at the quiet child and then back at his wife. "No…No! This can't be happening! Here!" He roughly handed the baby back over to Lou Ann.

Vincent automatically began crying again.

"Now look what you did! You made him cry!" Bunny glared malevolently at her husband, putting her hands on her hips.

"But _Bun-ny!"_

"Take him back!"

Lou Ann gently held Vincent out to Sergeant Carter, who resignedly picked him up in his arms. Almost as if on cue, the baby ceased his wails.

Carter rolled his eyes. "Look, this isn't funny and it's not cute! Bun, I came up to tell you that I've got a briefing at thirteen hundred and I probably won't be able to get off the base tonight."

Bunny shrugged. "I guess you'll just have to cancel it!"

"Cancel?!" Carter's jaw dropped and was only stopped from shouting by a hiccup from the baby. "Colonel Grey would kill me!" He hissed. "I don't think I gotta remind you that the size of your budget relies on my keeping these!" He pointed to the stripes on his sleeve angrily.

"Well, you gotta at least stay until the baby falls asleep." Bunny gestured impatiently.

"Who knows how long that's gonna take? This briefing is over classified information. It's extremely important! If I show up to that meeting late, Colonel Grey will demote me so fast, you won't have time to say 'rock-a-bye baby'!"

"Would you rather leave your godson to bawl his eyes out?"

"He'll go to sleep eventually!" Carter protested, turning to look down at the baby he held in his arms.

He was immediately arrested by the pure, innocent depths of Vincent's brown eyes. He'd seen that gaze before, in the face of his father. The baby quickly relaxed in his arms and smiled up at Sergeant Carter. His wispy tufts of hair were the same color as Gomer's. And when he gazed like that…Carter closed his eyes and looked away. The kid was the spitting image of his father!

Then he thought about Pyle. For all he knew, the skate could be lying somewhere in a Vietnamese jungle…After all, they hadn't gotten a letter from him since he'd left. Carter's heart twanged in sympathy. Pyle had been a good kid. Terrible a following his orders, but he'd always tried hard. He'd never given up. And he'd always went about everything he did with a smile on his face. There was definitely something…special about Pyle that made him stand out from all the other men he'd trained.

Carter sniffed. Pyle had been a good man. He shouldn't have gone in the first place. And he, Sergeant Carter, had been the one to send him there. He straightened with conviction. If Pyle had ended up paying the ultimate price for the sake of the Marine Corps, the least the Marines could do was take care of his son!

Bunny frowned and stepped closer to her husband in gentle concern. "Vince…are those _tears _in your eyes?"

"Huh?" Sergeant Carter quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve and frowned down at her huffily. "What are you talking about? I've never cried in my life!"

Bunny rolled her eyes. "Oh, sure. What about when you got that head cold two months ago? You were moaning and wailing and bawling…"

"Shh!" Carter glared at her. "Anyone with a high fever usually can't help their eyes watering a little."

"A little?!" Bunny put her hands on her hips indignantly.

"Aw, shut up!" Carter waved her off and gently rocked the baby in his arms. "If the little guy wants to be with his godfather, then he has a right to! After all, I couldn't leave my namesake heartbroken, crying his eyes out for me just because I had to go to some conference."

"What's with the sudden change?" Bunny threw her arms up, frustrated. "I thought you couldn't miss that meeting for fear of losing your stripes!"

"Colonel Grey always liked Pyle! I'm sure he'll understand when I explain to him the situation."

"_Liked?" _Bunny's eyes widened.

Lou Ann went pale, bringing her hand up to her heart. "Oh, my…"

"Do you know something we don't?" Bunny eyed him imploringly.

"No, no! Just a slip of the tongue, I guess." Carter laughed nervously. "I meant to say _likes." _He sat down on the couch and frowned at the photograph lying on the coffee table. "Hey. What is Pyle doing in that cheap, goofy-looking costume?"

Lou Ann sat down beside him, carefully plucking the picture out of Carter's fingers. "Please, be careful with this. It ain't a pitcher of Gomer. This here is Drayton Pyle, Gomer's great-great-granddaddy. An' he's wearin' a _real _Confederate uniform!"

"That's Pyle's great-great-grandfather? Looks just like him." Carter studied the photo closely. "In fact, _too _much like him!"

"The resemblance is quite uncanny, ain't it?" Lou Ann smiled. "It also gives me shivers the way their stories run almost parallel to each other. But he was…killed, in the Civil War. He left behind him his young wife an' baby son."

"Hey, that _is _strange." Carter looked up at Lou Ann. "Who sent you this, anyway?"

"Gomer's gran'ma."

"That superstitious old bag? What was she trying to get at this time?" Carter rolled his eyes. "Does she think Pyle's the reincarnation of this old guy?"

"Mmm," Lou Ann nodded in agreement, gesturing to the baby sleeping in Sergeant Carter's arms. "She might. Or she might think Vincent is the brand of Cain." She whispered quietly.


	18. Innocence Lost

**Chapter 18**

_Innocence Lost_

Colonel Hanson frowned over his paperwork, sighing as he scratched out yet another line on the document. The sun glared unforgivingly over his shoulder, the window open to take in the faraway shots and shouts associated with battle. A tray of mess hall rations lay on the desk at his elbow, untouched. He glanced at his watch and moaned, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. _Only 14:37! _The day was dragging by!

He looked up as he heard a tentative knock on the door. Corporal Slater slowly appeared in the doorway, his forage cap in his hands. "Sir? Requesting to speak with the colonel on an urgent matter, with your permission."

"Granted." Colonel Hanson stood. "What's troubling you, Corporal?"

"Sir, it's something to do with Gomer. You know, you talked to him about," he swallowed, "about family."

"You mean Lance Corporal Pyle?" Hanson frowned. "What's wrong with him?"

"That's just it, sir. He…he just isn't himself anymore!"

"Any plausible causes you could come up with for this, Corporal?" Hanson moved the full plate aside and sat on his desk. He glanced at it before holding it out to Slater. "Hungry?"

Duke shook his head. "No thanks, sir. The thing is, I don't have any real facts on the matter, sir. But I've got a theory."

"Oh?" Hanson's eyebrows shot up. "Pray tell."

"Gomer…That is, Lance Corporal Pyle, was captured a couple of weeks ago. Then, yesterday, he showed up at camp out of the blue. I don't know how he escaped, but I know it hurt him. His ankle had been banged up, and he was absolutely ravaged. He looked like some sort of wild animal. All I was able to get out of him on it was he'd been captured, imprisoned, and, uh…he said it was number ten-thousand."

Hanson nodded. "I see. But what makes you think he's acting strangely?"

Duke shrugged. "When he first came back, he seemed fine enough, but…lately, it's like he's not all there anymore! He's listless, just mopes around the camp all day. I wake up at night to hear him crying. You ask him a question and he just looks at you like he's not really seeing you. It's like he's withdrawn into himself…it's not like him at all! I'm really worried about him, Colonel." He sighed, his hands slowly falling to his sides. "I think that prison camp might have hurt him a lot more than what he's letting on."

"Hmm." Hanson scratched his chin in contemplation. "I understand your concern. Corporal, do you mind if I share a personal anecdote with you?"

"No, not at all." Duke smiled uncertainly. He wasn't sure what an anecdote was, but he wouldn't dare think of contesting the Colonel.

"I," Hanson sighed and looked down at the ground. "I dropped out of high school at sixteen to join the Marine Corps. It's not something I'm proud of. But…Pearl Harbor was attacked on my thirteenth birthday. That made me so mad, I was overanxious to join. The government had established a draft, and I wasn't the only one who felt the need to fight. When a whole bunch of my classmates left to join up, I went with them. And yes, I lied about my age to get in. I told you, I'm not proud of it." Hanson glared down at Slater, who tried to bite back his smile. He couldn't believe a colonel, of all people, would drop out of high school to join the Marines!

"So I completed my basic training and was shipped out to the Pacific. I hadn't been there a year when I was captured by an enemy sub. I spent the next six months in a Japanese prison."

Duke winced. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't be. I already have this to remind me of those pleasant times." Colonel Hanson shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his left sleeve. Duke's eyes widened in horror as they took in what was seared into his dark skin.

There, underneath a tattoo of the Marine Corps insignia, was a flash of deep marks so white they looked unreal. The pale flesh covering the area of his arm was so distorted it trembled uncertainly, as if it were very delicate. Duke looked away and swallowed. He felt like he was going to be sick!

"Remember, I received those back in 1945. Looks like I got 'em just yesterday, doesn't it?"

"Sir," Duke nodded weakly in agreement.

Hanson rolled down his sleeve and refastened his jacket. "So you see, I still carry the experience with me, physically as well as emotionally. Wounds of war are lasting, Corporal. They're not easy to heal. When I got out, I started behaving in ways that were not like me at all. I felt like Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde. Before, I'd always been organized and prepared. I followed all my instructions to the hilt. After I got out, I started to wonder whether I'd been living enough. I broke my curfew to stay out late and…partied. I drank. I was careless. I also got that tattoo you saw."

"What stopped your sergeant from throwing you out?" Duke asked quietly.

"I met her," Hanson sighed. "Karen. She was the one who woke me up to what I was doing to myself. Convinced me to go back to school and become a better Marine. My sarge was a softie. He'd served in the First World War and knew what I'd been through. On his recommendation alone, I was able to enter the US Naval Academy in Annapolis. There, I befriended Ed Grey. It was his friendship and Karen's support that got me the position I have today. It was solely their doing. A friend is the best thing to have in a time like that."

"But how, sir? How do I save Gomer from himself?" Duke sighed in despair.

The Colonel regarded him for a long time before finally speaking. "Tell you what I'll do. I'll give you and Lance Corporal Pyle a service leave to Cambodia. You know him better than all of us, Corporal. Be there for him. Don't let him do anything he wouldn't normally do. I'm giving you a week. Do with it what you will."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir!" Duke smiled and saluted the Colonel. Gomer had been right, he decided. Colonel Hanson was a really swell guy!

-

"Leatherneck One to DMZ Three. Heading south-southwest at a rate of two miles per hour, scheduled arrival time 16:07. Over," Duke murmured into the handheld radio as he and Gomer started traipsing into the jungle.

"DMZ Three to Leatherneck One. Roger. We've pinpointed your location. Awaiting your signal." A tinny voice crackled through the radio's receiver.

"Over and out." Duke replied before clipping the radio to his belt. "Hey, Gomer. You got the comic book handy?"

"Hmm?" Gomer drowsily looked up at the trees, as if he were searching for something no one else could see.

"The funny pages, for crying out loud!" Duke crossed his arms impatiently. "I gave 'em to you before we set out!"

"I don't got no funny comics, Duke. I don't think I even got a newspaper." Gomer gazed steadily at the sky in a trance-like state. "Ever wonder how come the sky is always blue?"

"That's it. Blue. Blue and green. The comic book, please?" Duke held out his hand in Gomer's direction.

"Blue an'…an' green. Those would look awful purdy together." Gomer reached in his pack and pulled out a rolled up piece of paper. "Now I got this here blue an' green ma…"

Duke hastily covered Gomer's mouth with his hand. "Get with the code, Gomer! Those Charlies learn English faster than you can think it! It's comic book, comic book! And I've been asking you for it for the past two minutes!" He yanked the map out of his friend's hand, slowly releasing his hold on Gomer's mouth. "You want us to get killed? Huh?"

"Killed…" Gomer's lip quivered. "She done told me not to…get killed. Bless her heart!"

"Cut that out!" Duke cried, alarmed at the look on Gomer's face. "Now, come on! If we ever want to get out of here in time, you're gonna need to cooperate!"

"One feller, he told me I had to cooperate…an' I didn't…an' he…"

"Shh…" Duke crouched low, pulling Gomer down beside him. He slowly pulled his radio out and clicked it on. "Leatherneck One to DMZ Three. Code red. Two Charlies spied in area. Waiting for orders. Over." He glanced over at Gomer, who had his head tucked between his knees as if he were awaiting a tornado.

"DMZ Three to Leatherneck One. Don't shoot. We repeat: _Don't shoot. _Turn and follow due south approximately two hundred and fifty yards before returning to scheduled path. Try your best not to be seen." The voice crackled back.

"Roger that. We're out." Duke replied before switching it off and returning it to his belt. "Come on, Gome. Follow my lead. Stay close. And whatever you do, _don't talk!"_

Duke slowly moved off in a slow crouch, holding his bayonet out before him protectively. He felt Gomer right on his tail and bit back a sigh. Gomer was obviously going to be no help. Duke was going to have to think for the both of them, especially if they were ever to reach Cambodia!

An idea forming in his mind, Duke slowly smiled to himself. _Oh, you're a mean one, Slater! _He sobered his expression and stopped on a dime, causing Gomer to run into him. "Hold up, now. Be quiet."

"Duke…is it…?"

"Shh! Stay here. I'll check it out." Duke slowly moved forward down the path. He glanced back once to see Gomer trembling, his eyes wide with fear.

He slowly turned back around, swallowing his laughter. This was just what the guy needed to snap out of it!

Duke slowly took another step, then another…and another…

Ten feet away from Gomer, he suddenly went down, emitting a blood-curdling scream.

"DUKE!"

By the time Gomer had reached his friend, the corporal was still lying on the ground, rolling around in laughter.

"Duke, are you all right?" Gomer put out a hand to pull him up, but Duke just shook his head, clambering to his feet.

"You should have seen your face!" He roared, holding his sides as he chortled at the joke.

To his surprise, he looked up to see Gomer frowning at him.

"What's the matter, Gome?"

"What a mean thing, what a mean thing to do!"

Duke's eyebrows shot to the sky. Gomer was yelling at him, angrier than the Devil himself!

Gomer's fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as he glared furiously at his friend. "You really scared me, Duke! That warn't funny at all! I really thought somethin' had done happened to you! You scared me to death! An' you 'spect me to laugh cause you was jus' foolin'? Really, Duke! I thought you was my friend! Friends don't do that to one another! What a mean thing, what a mean thing to do!"

"But Gomer…" Duke's voice trailed off as his friend stalked past him. He swiftly turned around on his heels and hurried after him. "Hey, you don't know where you're going!"

-

Eventually, they came to a clearing where Duke fired off a flare gun. Almost immediately, a helicopter swooped overhead and lowered to the ground.

Soon, both Duke and Gomer were inside and being lifted away. The entire time, neither one so much as said a word to the other.

Duke sighed. Well, fooling with Gomer sure didn't go over so hot. Nice job, Slater. Hopefully, this whole trip won't turn out to be a bust…

Suddenly, he smiled. Wait. Cambodia. Demilitarized. Away from all this war and destruction. Girls, exotic Cambodian girls toyed with his mind. He closed his eyes and relaxed against the seat, letting the girls play with his imagination as they pleased. No, one way or another, this trip would definitely _not _turn out to be a total bust…

Next to him, Gomer gazed out the window, his mind going in a completely different direction.

_But…how cain I be so wrong? _He rubbed his forehead tiredly, almost sick of the world he'd lived in, disillusioned for so long. Every time he closed his eyes, it seemed he saw those men, Duong and Anh Dung, who lived only to torture others with no scruples whatsoever. More so than the dead men, more so than the bullets directed at him coming from some unknown enemy gun, this image of their dastardly deeds brought home all the evils of war. And he didn't like what he saw…

Duke hadn't been much of a friend lately. The other men didn't say much to him. The officers were grumpy. No one understood him…and the only person who did was thousands of miles away.

Gomer closed his eyes and moaned softly. Lou Ann. How he missed her. How he needed her! If only he could see her then and there, kiss her sweet face and pour his troubled heart out to her. Lou Ann would know what to make of it. She always did. She knew him well, better than anyone else. She was the only one who could help.

Only she could help him see sense in this turned around world. Why wasn't he over there, with her? With his infant son? What was he doing here, anyway? He didn't even know why he had been pulled over here to fight a faceless enemy. He never had. It hadn't mattered before. Did it now?

Gomer sighed and studied the trees intently. Mulling over these problems wasn't helping. If anything, the troubling questions he'd stumbled across only served to aggravate his frazzled mind. He needed Lou Ann, his only light in a now foggy world, more than he'd ever needed her before.

Nothing could be heard save the spinning of the chopper blade as the men continued on their journey.

-

Before long, they'd quietly checked into a room at the hotel in almost complete silence. Duke scanned the perimeter of the lobby, searching for the exotic girls who'd teased him in his dreams. Gomer stared moodily at the window, in the disposition for nobody save one.

"Come on, Gome. Let's hit the beach. You'll feel better, I promise." Duke headed for the doors, already unbuttoning his collar in eager anticipation.

"Mmm." Gomer turned and studied a tank full of tropical fish. They seemed so simple, swimming around all day in their artificial world. What did they think of, day after day? What would happen if they were turned out in the ocean? He rapped his fingers against the tank and watched the fish swim furiously to the opposite end in fright.

When Duke realized his friend wasn't following him, he sighed and strode back in the direction he had come. Despite what all had been said between them, he needed to get Gomer out and stop his moping. He wasn't about to leave his friend alone!

"All right, buddy. You're coming with me." He grabbed Gomer's hand and pulled him along, making his way purposefully for the door.

As they did so, Duke failed to notice a Cambodian girl standing in the doorway. Too late, the three collided and were sent sprawling to the floor.

"Now look what you done, Duke!" Gomer exclaimed grumpily. As he dusted himself off, his eyes met the intense glowing hazel ones of the stranger. He couldn't move his gaze from them. They looked so familiar, yet so distant. They seemed to have pierced his very soul, making him go cold. They were a reflection of his own. Pain. He'd seen pain in her eyes.

The girl was the first to break the spell.

"Watch where you're going!" She jumped to her feet and pushed her long, dark hair back, glowering at the ground.

"I-I'm sorry. I…I didn't see you." Duke stammered.

The girl only shook her head, refusing to look at him. "Out of my way."

With that, she stalked off in the direction of the stairs.

Gomer watched her go. There was a violent fluidity to her every move. The flick of her head, the tap of her fingers as she walked, a farce held up against the world as a stiff barrier. The bobble to her step told the real truth. Her insecurity traveled the length of the lobby and connected him to her on an emotional level. As long as she was in his sight, he could look at nothing else.

"Gome…Gome!"

It was only when Duke snapped his fingers two inches from Gomer's face that he registered the presence of his friend.

"Hey, come on! These Cambodian girls have got a long way to go if they want redemption in my eyes, and I'm eager to give them the chance! Let's go!"

Gomer reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged along on Duke's girl hunt. But for the rest of the evening, he could see nothing else except the haunting glimmer of the stranger's eyes.

-

"Kalliyan," Duke murmured, letting the name roll over his tongue, as if it were a foreign delicacy. He smiled and put his arm around the bright, lively native girl sitting beside him. "You know what the boys back home used to call me?"

The girl giggled and shook her head. "No."

"LB. Short for Lover Boy. And I know how to take a girl places. Casablanca, Paris…" His eyebrows rose invitingly. "…Rome," He smiled. "With your permission, baby, we'll go to the moon."

"The moon…in the sky?" She asked innocently.

Duke nodded, grinning. "And I know how to fly."

A little ways down the bar, Gomer sat in the silent, darkened room and stared moodily at the counter. The bartender looked up from mopping the grille every few minutes to glance his way. He sighed as he eventually saw no change.

"Hey, Marine."

Gomer's head remained bowed as he traced his finger over the counter.

The bartender stopped mopping and crossed his arms. "You! Marine! I'm talking here!"

Gomer slowly looked up and blinked drowsily at the bartender. "I'm sorry, sir. Was you talkin' to me?"

The bartender threw his arms up in the air. "Who else is in the joint except for Casanova over there?"

Gomer turned and looked. "Oh." He murmured bleakly.

"You sure you don't want anything?"

"Uh-uh." Gomer nodded quietly. "Thank you kindly, sir. But I don't drink."

The bartender leaned on the counter. "You don't want me to bring you any ginger ale or water? Something, huh?"

Gomer shook his head. "Thank you again, sir. But I ain't thirsty."

The bartender shrugged and pushed himself off the counter. "If he won't drink, he won't drink. Suit yourself."

For the next few minutes, the dim room was silent save for Kalliyan's gushing over Duke's smooth advances. A couple of bulbs overhead flickered out while others determinedly cast their minimal light about the room. They were near their end, but they were still there. Mosquitoes buzzed about the humid evening air, searching for victims and finding none.

One landed on Gomer's palm and he brushed it away lazily. He regretted even coming. He was doing less here than he could back at camp. He buried his head in his hands miserably. If only he could go home, get out of this entire mess!

War wasn't fun anymore. He regretted enlisting, even. If he had never joined up to begin with, maybe this whole nightmare never would have unfolded!

The bartender threw his cloth down on the grille. He couldn't take the silence any longer. "Hey, Marine. How's the war going over next door?"

"Hmm?" Propriety necessitated that Gomer look up and acknowledge the man who'd addressed him. His natural-born gentility ran deep. Regardless of how he was presently feeling, he was still and always the Southern gentleman.

"I asked you about the war."

Gomer shook his head. "The war's terrible. Terrible, terrible, terrible."

The bartender rolled his eyes. "Tell me something I don't know, why don't ya?" He turned and scrubbed vigorously at the twice-polished grille. "You Americans are gonna drag us into this storm and ruin us yet! You know Lon Nol was able to push Prince Sihanouk off the throne? It don't bode well at all. He won't stand for that without some sort of retaliation. And that's no good for us. Rumor has it that he's conspiring with Pol Pot! Now that Pol Pot, he's trouble!" The bartender spat the name out, pronouncing each word separately, as if they were viral bacteria.

"You bomb our country, because NVA has established bases here. More than you ever dropped on Japan! What did we ever do to get involved in this? All we wanted was to remain neutral!" The bartender shook his head sadly.

Gomer, not hearing a word of the man's rant, had resumed picking at the counter. The gold sliver on his left hand glinted in the dim light, catching his attention. He fingered the band and thought back to the day it had been placed there. How clear everything had been then! So long ago, so very, very long ago…A tear ran down his cheek as he slowly realized he'd only been married for little over a year. It had just been one disaster after another since then. Perhaps Lester had been right, after all…

The bartender's voice broke through his thoughts. "You want something?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but it was a different voice that answered him. "Yes. Strongest brew in the house."

He turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw the girl he'd run into earlier. She stared down at her hands as the bartender turned around to fill her order. As was the case before, he couldn't stop himself from studying the brooding creature.

She felt his gaze and shifted uncomfortably, glaring at him from under hooded oriental lids.

Gomer quickly looked away. He'd gotten the same strong feeling that there was something very similar about her in relation to him.

The bartender set the glass down in front of her and murmured something quietly to her. She rolled her eyes and picked up her glass. To Gomer's amazement, she drank the cup empty in one shot. When she'd finished, she set it down and sighed deeply, nodding to the bartender.

Before Gomer knew it, she was sitting next to him at the counter. The proximity of the two made him uncomfortable, causing him to sit straight up in his seat. He glanced at his companion, who was now sporting the very ghost of a smile.

"You want another?" The bartender asked her gently.

She nodded. "Don't drink alone if you can help it. Get something for him over there."

Gomer started to shake his head, but she answered before he could speak.

"Another damned teetotaler, right? Everyone is now. What're they so scared about, anyway? Go ahead and get him one, Sothea. On the rocks."

Gomer swallowed and tried to find his voice, but he couldn't. He concentrated on the table instead, not even noticing when the bartender set their drinks down in front of him.

"What's your name, Marine?" She asked casually as she took another long drink.

"Gomer," he squeaked, clearing his throat. His voice sounded more normal the second time. "Lance Corporal Gomer Pyle, United States Marine Corps."

"Well, aren't you just special?" She drawled sarcastically.

Gomer looked pensively at his glass. It looked like water. He sloshed it uncertainly and dipped his finger in it, tasting the substance cautiously. It was water. He took a tentative sip of his glass. As he set it down on the counter, he seemed to relax and become more sure of himself. "Gomer…comes straight out of the Bible. It's a Hebrew word, an' it means 'complete.'"

"Yeah?" She glared at him in feigned interest. "And mine's Kim Sonisay. It means nothing."

Gomer shrugged and took another drink. "Kim's a right purdy name."

She laughed mockingly, shaking her head so her hair fell over and hid her face. "Kim's my surname, o wise one."

"Well, I'll be." Gomer laughed, though he couldn't think for the life of him what he'd found so funny.

"You talk funny." Kim propped her head up with her arm and frowned, perplexed. "Not like other Americans that come through here."

Gomer grinned lazily. "That's cause I'm from the South."

"What makes the South so different?"

"You know, I ain't too sure. What makes Cambodier any dif'rent?" He hiccupped and sighed, taking another drink from his glass.

The bartender leaned against the grille, polishing a glass with his dishrag. He found it funny. The solitary loners had only been reluctant to say a word a minute ago. Now they were perfectly chatty.

Kim frowned. "With other Americans…the war has not touched them. They are fine with killing day in and day out. But you, the war has touched you."

"Yeah." Gomer instantly sobered. "You're gonna think this is funny. But I actually enlisted." He nodded emphatically. "I didn't have to, neither. But I did. An' you know why? Cause I'm between the ages of eighteen an' thirty-five. An' I went. Willin', too. Ain't that the funniest thing you ever heard?"

They both began laughing so hard that they attracted the attention of Gomer's mooning friend. He glanced their way and grimaced. _Oh, no…what has he got himself into?_

Kim shook her head, glaring into the bottom of her near-empty glass. "You're a riot," she murmured listlessly.

"You know, I ain't at all sure anymore of jus' why I come here." Gomer hiccupped sadly and subconsciously held out his glass for the bartender to refill.

"I came…I came searching…the rocks…" Kim slowly replied. She shook her head. "I'm just crazy."

"I don't think so."

"Yeah? You're just a mooncalf. Your opinion don't count." She sighed, seemingly withdrawing into herself. "The truth…"

Gomer gazed up at the bartender in confusion as the man slowly refilled his drink.

He nodded. "Yeah, I know what she's talking about. Old Khmer legend. It is said, that five hundred years ago, one man owned this entire area. He had a son, who was one day destined to inherit the land. But the son grew to have discontent and plotted the overthrow of his father. He gathered several smart men from his father's army and told them of his plans. One of the father's army he confided in, though, still was loyal to the head of the house and quickly informed him of his son's plans. The father was a good man and trusted his son implicitly. He was outraged at being so betrayed. On the evening of their attempt, the army was alerted and the father led them in chasing the son and his fellow traitors to the outskirts of his property. The father was a practitioner in magic and cast a spell on the men, turning them into stones. One of them is said to have been the man who'd remained loyal. To this day, the stones stand, two miles from here. And on a windy day, the prophets claim you can hear the stone of the innocent man whisper the names of other wrongly accused innocents. We've had several people come through here throughout the years to test the theory, and they claim it's true. One man, American, came here on an expedition and claimed it to be whispering names all the day long. When he went back to the coast, he learned of the Salem Witch Trials that had been taking place while he was away." The bartender shrugged. "But I don't know. Each man to his own, I guess."

Throughout the man's telling of the legend, Gomer had become progressively bored and ready to fall asleep. But Duke had paid rapt attention to the bartender's every word. When he'd finished, the Corporal laughed. "You call that scary?"

"I didn't say it was." The man eyed him warily. "But there is something about those stones that doesn't quite add up, I tell you."

Kalliyan forgotten, Duke leaned forward confidently. "Lay it on me."

"One stone, thought to be the son, has an imprint on it. One that looks like a bird with its wings spread."

"The phoenix," Duke murmured breathlessly.

"We've had several occult groups come through here, dancing and praying to the rocks in various rituals. They believed that through their exercises, they would resurrect the magic and power encased within those stones." The bartender nodded. "We've seen them all. All religions, all far reaches of the world. We even had a few Nazis come here back in the 30s looking to become indestructible warriors."

"And I will find…the truth…" Kim whispered fervently. She downed another full glass and her intensity evaporated. She smiled over at Gomer and lifted it to him. "To innocence!"

Gomer smiled lazily and clinked his glass with hers.

Kim hastily refilled her glass and raised it again. "To all the king's men!"

"What couldn't put Humpty Dumpty together again." Gomer drank again and laughed.

"What did you say?" Kim asked through her giggles.

Gomer's shoulders shook as he shrugged helplessly. "I doan remember."

Duke excused himself from the girl and the bartender, making his way over to his friend. "Come on, Gome. I think it's time to call it a day."

At the feel of Duke's hand on his arm, Gomer turned and tried to concentrate on his friend's three faces. "Wha-what?"

Duke grimaced. "It's okay, buddy. We're gonna get you fixed up real fast. Follow me, now." He hoisted Gomer up by the elbow and started dragging him toward the door.

"No!" Gomer shoved him away and clutched at a table to keep himself upright. "Lisssen…here…where…youtakeinme?"

"Back to the room! Now, quit being an idiot and come on! Cooperate!"

Gomer still leaned over the table, glaring at him with half-open eyes.

A sinking feeling descended to the depths of Duke's stomach. He pointed shakily. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

Gomer slowly shook his head.

Duke's shoulders slumped as he buried his face in his hands. _"Oh, my gosh!"_

When Gomer made a halting motion to walk, Duke looked up and stopped him. "Gome!" His voice shook with anger and despair. "What did you do?!"

Gomer shrugged and smiled. "Ah doan…rawtlee…'member."

Duke shook his head and straightened purposefully. "I've gotta get you out of here!"

Gomer held out a hand to stop him, but ended up stumbling into his arms. As Duke dragged him out, he struggled and protested feebly.

"Le'mego! Ah…kin…walk…"

Duke winced. "I don't blame you, bud. Heck, I was the one that got you into this to begin with! Hey, how about a song to cheer you up?"

He mulled the problem over. What was a song Gomer was bound to know, even in his current delusional state? Inspiration hitting him, he launched into a hearty rendition of 'Dixie,' singing at the top of his voice. As he'd predicted, it wasn't long before Gomer's slurred baritone joined in.

_"I wish I was in the land of cotton,_

_Old times there are not forgotten;_

_Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie's land!_

_In Dixie's land where I was born in_

_Early on one frosty morning,_

_Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie's land._

_Then I wish I was in Dixie! Hooray! Hooray!_

_In Dixie's land I'll take my stand, to live and die in Dixie!_

_Away! Away! Away down south in Dixie!_

_Away! Away! Away down south in Dixie!"_

By this time, they'd reached the room. Duke groaned as he laid Gomer down on his bed, throwing a blanket over him gently. "You know you're gonna feel like absolute crap tomorrow."

All he got in response was a loud snore.

Duke shook his head and slowly got ready for bed. As he snapped off the dim lamp light and rolled over on his side, his eyes refused to close. He lay staring into the darkness, a restlessness taking hold of his mind and arresting his attention.

_Poor Gomer…he's never been drunk in his life! He never should have been, too. Why did he have to go and do it now? Oh, I know why. This is all my fault. I should never have left him alone! Here the Colonel goes trusting me and I haven't done a very good job so far. Should I have even brought him here to begin with?_

Duke rolled over on his other side, but his thoughts followed him. _If Lou Ann could see him now, she'd be crying. And it's your fault! You're a corporal, you should be able to handle some responsibility! What was it that Colonel Hanson told me? "Don't let him do anything he wouldn't normally do." And he's been in Gomer's position before! Partying…and breaking curfew…and that tattoo…_Duke shuddered. _From now on, you'd better not let him out of your sight!_

He rolled over onto his stomach. _Who knows just what he'll get into next? He doesn't even know what he's doing. He's your best friend. You gotta take care of him! You're responsible for his every action right now, Slater. You've gotta be more careful!_

He turned so he was again lying on his back. Though his troubled mind yearned to speak more, a tidal wave of sleep encompassed him.

_Duke Slater, what sort of a friend are you? _He thought as he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	19. A Friend in Need

**Chapter 19**

_A Friend in Need_

"Ohhh…Ohhhhhh!"

Duke awoke to the agonized moans of his friend in the next bed over. "Gomer, you awake?"

"Yeah…" came the troubled reply. A few moments passed before he murmured, "Duke…I'm sick."

Duke jumped up. It was going to be his duty today to assume the role his father had held the morning after his twenty-first birthday so many years ago. "What, you feel like you're gonna toss it?"

"Already did." Gomer pointed weakly to the trash bin sitting next to his bed. The smell emanating from it made Duke's own stomach churn. He forced himself to swallow and nodded. "That's…good, that's very good."

"Why?"

"The poison's working its way outta you." Duke walked over and opened the curtains so only a single ray of light graced the room. "You'd better stay in bed today. Lying down's the best thing for you. I'll go downstairs and get you some coffee."

"Duke…"

"Yeah, Gome?" He turned and was taken aback by the soulful brown eyes of his friend.

"What happened? Last night?"

Duke gently sat down on Gomer's bed, wringing his hands resignedly. He sighed. "There's no easy way to go about it, Gomer. You don't remember last night at all."

Gomer shook his head slowly. He groaned. Even the smallest movement caused a searing pain, comparable to that of his ankle only a few weeks before, to rip through him!

"That's because you were drinking. Hard. I had to drag you out of there last night. You were pretty wasted."

"No, Duke. I don't drink."

Duke closed his eyes. He'd expected Gomer's simple denial. Convincing him was not going to be easy, either.

"You were last night." He murmured quietly.

"But Duke, I…I wouldn't do that."

"You did, Gomer. Scared me to death. By the end of the evening, you couldn't stand, couldn't talk…" Duke looked over to see Gomer's eyes brimming with tears.

"I did?…Goll-ly…I sure am sorry, Duke."

Duke smiled. "Don't worry about it. It's all on the number one." He stood. "Don't try getting up. I'll go down and get you some coffee. Black coffee."

Gomer closed his eyes as Duke shut the door behind him. Why did everything hurt so intensely? Had he really done the unthinkable? What was happening to him? The bright world swam into a blurred whirlpool about him as an invisible drummer pounded out a throbbing, lively beat on Gomer's forehead. He tried to swallow, but his tongue felt furry and far too large for his mouth. His stomach screamed in protest as its many knots tightened again and again. He tried to lift his hand, but he had no energy. The bed sheets were soaked. He knew why as he felt a bead of perspiration snake its way down his face.

He'd never felt so terrible before in his life.

As he waited for Duke to return, Gomer concentrated hard on the ceiling, trying desperately to remember the events of last night. But he couldn't. His memory eluded him. It seemed as though one minute he was with Duke, who was watching girls on the beach, and the next minute he was here, sick out of his mind.

Duke quietly reentered the room, carrying a steaming pot in on a tray. "Here you are, bud. Drink up. It'll help you feel better."

"What time is it?" Gomer asked tiredly, taking the proffered cup from Duke's hand.

"Eleven hundred. Don't worry about getting up today. Best you don't, really."

"You're real understandin', Duke." Gomer murmured as he took a tentative sip.

"Hey, I've been there. And I know what it's like." Duke grimaced. "Gosh, Gomer. I haven't been drunk since I enlisted. You're the last person out of all the people I know I'd expect to get trashed. Especially when you were in uniform."

Gomer looked down at his rumpled khaki uniform and groaned. "I done messed up again."

Duke nodded quietly. "Yep."

"Sergeant Carter would say I been a knucklehead."

"It was a knuckleheaded thing to do." Duke shrugged and picked up the pot. "Here, I'll refill you."

"Duke…"

"Yeah, Gome?"

"Why'd you let me do it?"

Duke slowly set down the pot. "That was knuckleheaded of me to do. But believe me, I promise it won't happen again."

"You'll stay with me, then?"

Duke smiled. "You bet. From now on, I'm not letting you out of my sight!"

-

When the two Marines went down for breakfast the next morning, their calm companionship was shattered by a world of panic and confusion.

"What the…?" Duke exclaimed as they entered the dim bar. The bartender was comforting a woman who was sobbing and wailing miserably. Several other guests stood nearby, shaking their heads and murmuring quietly to one another.

Duke and Gomer quickly made their way to the bar. As they did so, Kalliyan came running up to them. "Duke! What's going on?"

Duke took her arm and pulled her with him. "I don't know, Kalli, but I intend to find out."

The three finally made their way up to the bar. Kalliyan and Gomer looked on in confusion as Duke pounded his fist on the counter. "Look here! What in the world is going on this morning?"

The bartender glared at him. "And where were _you _yesterday, Corporal?"

"Me? I was upstairs playing nursemaid to my friend here!" Duke growled. "Now come off it! What's got you going around pointing fingers at people all of a sudden?"

"Don't get touchy. I only ask because you were asking after the stones the other day."

Duke went cold. He felt as if he'd just been punched in the gut. "Wha…what's the stones got to do with anything?"

"My baby!" The woman cried.

Duke's eyes widened in growing horror.

"This woman's child was taken from her yesterday." The bartender said quietly.

"And it hasn't been found?" Duke asked hopefully, grasping at his last available straw.

"No. They found him this morning…dead, left as a sacrifice before the stones."

Duke buried his face in his hands in despair. _"Oh, my gosh!"_

_-_

"That's terrible, jus' terrible!" Gomer cried as he sat at a dark table in the bar with Duke. "Jus' think. What if somethin' like that had done happened to my Vincent?"

"Something's wrong, Gomer. Something's very wrong. Anyone who does such a thing is sick." Duke looked into his drink moodily. He'd made doubly sure that Gomer's drink was nothing more than clean, distilled water before letting him have it. His friend certainly didn't need to be touching any more strong stuff for a long, _long_ time.

"We gotta find 'im, Duke."

He looked up in surprise to see a determined glow in his friend's eyes.

"I see that momer what lost her kid…an' I see Lou Ann bawlin' for Vincent. An' I get mad. I get real mad. We gotta find 'im, Duke. Torture is the unforgivable sin, that's what Gran'ma always says. We gotta find 'im, an' tell 'im jus' how awful he's been."

Duke nodded. Gomer obviously felt more keenly than he did for the matter, even though he was pretty well disgusted. But after all, Gomer was the father of an infant himself.

He turned back to his friend and cocked his head imploringly. "Are you saying we should find out? As in…investigating?"

Gomer nodded. "We got to, Duke. We jus' got to!" He looked around. "What happened to that girlfriend of yours?"

Duke shrugged. "Said she had to go meet up with her uncle." He brightened. "Hey. We don't have to investigate! I know who did it." He gave Gomer a knowing look.

Gomer shifted uneasily in his seat. "You think it's Kim, don't you?"

"You remember her?"

Gomer nodded wordlessly.

Duke shook his head. "Look, Gome. It _has _to be her! She said she wanted to know the truth about those stones the other night, didn't she? Who else could it be? It definitely wasn't you, and it wasn't me because the only time I left the room was to bring you that coffee!"

Gomer shrugged. He couldn't remember anything about the conversation that took the place the other night, save Kim's name. "I guess so."

"Of course it's right!" Duke pounded the table with his fist. "All we need is some evidence. And I know just where to find it."

"Where?" Gomer looked up worriedly.

"It's only natural to return to the scene of the crime, right?"

Gomer quickly shook his head. "No thanks, Duke. Personally, I don't got it in me to see some stones the poor little feller done got killed for."

"All right, then." Duke stood and glanced at Gomer. All of a sudden, he remembered his promise of the other day. "Look, if I go check it out…would you promise to go straight to the room? And…stay there?"

Gomer nodded. "Sure, Duke. If you say so."

"I do say so!" Duke grinned. "Let's move out."

Gomer yawned as he stood up. "What time is it, anyway?"

Duke glanced at his watch. "Nine hundred hours. High time this squared-away Marine put his nose to the grindstone."

Gomer nodded. "An' I'll go take a nap."

-

But when Gomer entered the room, all thoughts of rest immediately left him. He didn't know what exactly it was. It must have been the atmosphere.

The room looked exactly the way he and Duke had left it, or at least he thought it did. But there was something about it that seemed…off. Eerie. Not right at all. And yet it was.

_Is the maid still here? _He thought, checking the bathroom. "Hello. Anyone here?"

A fruitless search of the closets, cupboards, shower, corners and underneath the beds proved he was alone. No one else was in the room.

Gomer shrugged and went to the bathroom to shave. "Strangest thing I done ever noticed…I've could've sworn…maybe it's that dumb drinkin' I done did…"

_I wonder what Duke's up to right now? _He wondered as he ran the faucet. _He's prob'ly there by now. Goll-ly, I sure wouldn't want to be there. That's jus' terrible. Who'd kill someone they didn't even know cause of some made-up power?_

_Why would someone kill someone they didn't know in a furrin country for reasons they don't even know?_

The idea entered Gomer's head so suddenly that it startled him. Then it began to rankle in his mind. He frowned at his mirror image. "Cause Sergeant Carter said so, an' that's why!"

_Is Sergeant Carter right?_

"Course he is! Sergeant Carter's the smartest man in the whole world! An' I'll foller him to the ends of the earth!"

He winced as he nicked himself with the razor. "Besides, it warn't his fault I'm over here. He had to. Headquarters in Washington told him to."

_Are they right?_

"The Commandant of the Marine Corps is a real smart feller. Not as smart as Sergeant Carter, but he knows what he's doin'." Gomer raised his head defiantly. "Sides, the Marines is honorable, an' killin' innocent children ain't!"

He paused as he raised his washcloth to towel off his face. All irritable thoughts left his mind. There, missing from the washcloth was a small square of fabric.

-

Duke shivered. _This place gives me the creeps, _he thought as he peered through the fog, trying to catch sight of the stones in the dense mist.

Slowly, so very slowly, large shapes began to discern themselves through the fog. A cold, icy feeling struck Duke's heart. There was something alluring about the mystical and mysterious stones. They called Duke forward, drawing him closer and closer to their awe-inspiring presence. Before he knew it, he'd arrived at his destination.

Much as he wouldn't like to admit it, he was trembling. A sweat broke out on his forehead. The stones were large, as big as he was. They had a certain feeling about them, as if they controlled their surroundings to make themselves even more mighty in appearance. The mist parted ways, skirting round the edges of the stones, surrounding the small clearing like a fence. A chilling wind blew through the knoll, swirling around the still figures menacingly. Thunder rolled in the distance, indicating the coming rain. Heavy stratus clouds covered the sky, bathing the landscape in dull gray. The birds and insects were silent here. It was as if the world remained in an eerie deathly quiet. And the stones stood in the middle of it all, mocking the mere mortals who dared to disturb them. Duke was utterly terrified.

He swallowed. "Okay. They're just a bunch of old rocks. Nothing to worry about, Slater. Nothing to worry about." He began moving slowly toward them. He looked down to see he'd assumed a combat crouch, his hands holding an invisible bayonet before him. He shrugged in irritation. "Come on! Think the bogeyman's gonna jump out at you or something?"

He whirled around on his heel and gasped. He'd come face to face with the imprint on one of the rocks. It had obviously been weathered by natural processes. No man had carved it there. It did, indeed, look like a bird with its wings spread.

"The phoenix," he murmured quietly. He reached up to brush his fingers over the indentation. He trembled as he touched the grooves. The rock was warm, even though it was bitingly cold that morning. The surface throbbed under his palm, as if it had a pulse. And with the blood roaring in his ears, Slater really did think the rock was alive.

He closed his eyes. Regardless of whether or not the legend was real, there was definitely something sinister about these rocks. He almost expected a witch doctor or some other occult shaman to jump out of the mist and begin dancing around the rocks. Yes, he could see it all in his mind's eye. Half-crazed fanatics circling the rocks, fires ablaze in the background as they chanted an ancient rhyme. Several were dropping down to the ground, as if in prayer to the stones. And among the frenzied drumbeats and desperate calls, a crying, innocent child sacrificed before them.

Duke pulled his hand away as the image disappeared in a shade of red. This was too much. Again, he found himself asking, _why would somebody do this?_

He shook his head. "I've wasted enough time already. Time to start investigating."

He got down on his hands and knees to begin searching every inch of the grounds. He wasn't scared anymore. He was a man on a mission. He _had _to bring the killer to justice.

"Maybe it's best Gomer didn't come, after all," he muttered quietly. At least his friend was up in the room, sleeping. _Just like he should. Keep him out of trouble. Then again, trouble always has a way of finding Gomer…_

_-_

Gomer threw the last pile of clothes he'd been sifting through on the floor. "I think that's it," he murmured, scribbling a final note on a scrap of paper.

He pushed the men's files and passports onto the floor, sitting down slowly on his bed. He rapped his pencil against his palm as he looked back over his personal inventory:

**'****What I lost:**

**Sqar of warshclof**

**Tie clip**

**Plastik com**

**Ekstry socks**

**What Duke lost:**

**Tie clip**

**Favorite pen**

**Pees of shirt**

**Naal cutters'**

"Now ain't that funny," he mused aloud, "why have all them doohickeys gone missin' all of a sudden?" He looked about the room that he'd managed to tear apart in his search. "I knew there warn't somethin' quite right. I jus' knew it!"

He jumped as a loud rapping noise filled the room. At first he thought he was being fired on, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

"Who's there?" He asked warily, glancing about the room.

"Window!"

Gomer's heart dropped. He knew that insolent, sarcastic voice anywhere. He quickly ran to the window and pulled back the curtains.

Sure enough, there she was, grappling onto the tree branch for dear life. "Well, are you gonna let me in or what?"

-

Duke groaned and sat back on his heels, rubbing his sore back tiredly. _I've been searching and searching and I haven't found a thing yet!_

He slowly stood and leaned against the rock with the imprint on it. "Prince, I don't blame you for what you did. Heck, if I could take the spell off you, I would. Scout's honor. But you've gotta believe me. I'm not an enemy. You can tell me. Come on, where have you got it stashed?"

When silence ensued, he shrugged. "I thought as much." He'd fallen so desperate he was talking to inanimate rocks. Maybe this whole thing was hopeless, after all. He sighed and kicked a pebble across the ground. He watched it jump over the sparse grass until it finally came to rest against a small object. It sparkled, catching Duke's eye.

He stooped down and snatched it up in his palm. He studied it intently, a grin spreading over his face. "Aha!" He smiled up at the stone. "Thanks, Prince."

Whistling, he jauntily made his way back toward the hotel. He tossed the shiny object up and down in his palm. _I bet I know who this belongs to!_

_"Kim Sonisay…"_

Duke turned around. "Who said that?"

The clearing had once again assumed its deathly silence.

Duke shrugged. "Must have been my imagination."

It wasn't until after he'd started walking that he could hear the name again. It seemed to be in his head, like a faint whisper in the breeze…

_Stop it! This place is driving you nuts! _He thought, running the rest of the way.

-

"You are the only one who's talked to me like I wasn't a ruffian dragged out of the street." She spoke slowly, deliberately. Her beady oriental eyes were trained on the wall, yet they saw nothing. She pushed a long, dark tendril away from her face and sighed. Gomer sat quietly on the bed next to her, listening closely to what she had to say.

"People think I'm the one that did it. Because I came about the…the stones." She turned and met Gomer's gaze. "I am innocent. Not of much, but I am of that crime."

Gomer nodded quietly.

"You…believe me…don't you?"

He nodded. "As sure as I know I'm North Caroliner born an' bred, I know you ain't lyin'."

Kim smiled. "I was born in Takev. It's a city, not far from here. Father was a merchant in town. I can still remember running up and down that crowded marketplace as a little girl."

Gomer traced the design on the bed sheets with his finger and shifted his position cautiously. "Why don't you ever go back there?"

She shook her head. "Look, this isn't an autobiography I'm giving you, all right?"

She'd quickly gone from trusting to defensive. Something had happened to her. Something she didn't want to share. _That pain in her eyes…_

"Kim?" He asked her gently, smiling as he looked up hopefully into her eyes.

She sighed in exasperation, hastily rubbing her eyes. "I told you, that's not even my name. It's Sonisay."

"Which means…"

"One you like at first impressions." She answered promptly. Seeing Gomer's triumphant smile, she shrugged sheepishly. "I looked it up last night. I was bored."

"I knew it meant somethin'." Gomer laughed, recalling his first impressions of the girl.

"I swear, if you call me Kim again, I'll…" She trailed off, her finger dangling in midair.

"You'll what…Kim?" He smiled and waited for her to finish her ultimatum.

"I'll…I'll have to start calling you Tay-uhng Mool."

Gomer frowned. "What?"

"Tay-uhng Mool. It's Khmer for complete, or whole. Didn't you say that's what your name meant?"

"I reckon so…" Gomer thought about it for a minute, the ghost of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "What you say it was, again?"

"Tay-uhng Mool. And you'd better get used to it, cause I'm going to use it from now on. You Americanize my name and I Cambodianize yours. Deal?" She stuck out her hand.

Gomer smiled and shook it. "Deal."

At that moment, the door opened and Duke entered. "Hey, Gome! I'm back! And you wouldn't believe what I…" He bounded into the room and stopped short when he caught sight of Kim Sonisay. He froze, his hand holding up the dangling, bright object dumbly.

Kim jumped off the bed. "Hey, that's my earring!" She grabbed it out of his palm and pocketed it quickly. "Thanks. I've been looking for that."

"I knew it!" Duke glared at her smugly. "We have our murderer right here! Didn't I call it, Gome? Huh?"

"Look, what's going on here?" Kim glowered at Duke. "Why am I a murderer all of a sudden?"

"I found that," Duke pointed to the pocket where she'd stashed the earring, "at the base of the stones this morning."

Kim lost her angry look, as if relieved. She assumed an air of indifference instead, rolling her eyes dramatically. "That doesn't mean I did it."

"Not necessarily. But that's not going to matter whether you deny it or not." A self-satisfactory glow came to Duke's eyes as he sidled up to her confidently. "There's enough circumstantial evidence stacked up against you to guarantee a full-blown conviction, baby."

Kim's hazel eyes flared. She crossed her arms, refusing to back down. "Oh, I'm soo scared."

Duke growled.

Gomer hastily stood and shielded the two from each other. "Cool your top, Duke. She didn't do it."

"What do you mean, she didn't do it?! Of course she did!"

"I'm gonna leave now." Kim breezed past the two Marines and moved toward the door. "Tay-uhng Mool, see me out?"

Gomer followed, leaving Duke standing speechlessly in the center of the room.

Kim paused in the doorway and turned around to face Gomer. "Your friend is wrong, you know."

He nodded. "Yes, I know."

She gestured for him to come close, glancing up and down the hallways before whispering fervently in his ear, "I came to you for help. In proving me innocent. Someone is out to frame me. I don't know who, and I don't know why. I intend to find out. But I can't do it alone."

Gomer nodded emphatically. "I'll help you, Kim."

"Thanks, Tay-uhng Mool." She replied before disappearing down the corridor.


	20. Good Help is Hard to Come By

**Chapter 20**

_Good Help is Hard to Come By_

Gomer woke shortly before oh-six hundred, as was his custom. He saw Duke moving in the dark and knew his friend was already up and getting ready. As he watched, Duke slowly entered the bathroom and began running water in the sink.

Gomer slowly swung his feet over until they met the floor, sitting up with a long yawn. He sat there, listening to Duke, who was murmuring in the bathroom.

"What the…oh, my gosh…oh, my _gosh!" _Duke bounded back into the room. "Gomer! Good, you're up!"

Gomer looked at him in sleepy confusion. "Duke…what's wrong?"

His friend was as pale as a ghost. He trembled and beckoned to Gomer. "You'd better take a look at this."

He followed Duke into the bathroom and stopped short. "Go-oll-ly!"

Their bathroom mirror had been painted with large Khmer characters in red.

"Is that…?" Gomer moved closer to study the paint.

Duke shrugged. "I don't know. If it is, I don't want to touch it."

"What's it say?"

"I don't know! Do I look like I can read it?"

That problem was resolved soon enough. Duke called Kalliyan up to the room, who easily translated it for them.

"It says: 'Beware. Halt all investigations and you escape with your lives.'" She looked worriedly over at the boys. "Duke, this sounds serious!"

Duke studied the floor tile, crossing arms in thought. "This is the first real threat we've received on the case. Whoever it is thinks we're getting a little too close for comfort."

"It warn't Kim!" Gomer insisted plaintively "She wouldn't go a-sneakin' up here in the middle of the night warn us off. She already knows we suspect her. She wouldn't do a thing like this!"

Duke held up a hand. "Hold on, Gomer. I'm thinking."

Kalliyan looked at Duke incredulously. "You mean you're continuing the case?"

"Of course!" Now that we're getting threats, it adds a sort of urgency to our mission, you see? And it gives us an important clue." He gestured to the mirror.

"But what if,"

Duke reached out and tentatively brushed one of the red letters. "It's paint."

"But it was made out to look like you-know-what." Gomer sniffed.

"You could get hurt! Duke, this isn't fun anymore. I think we should drop the case." Kalliyan looked pleadingly at her suitor.

Duke shook his head. "There's no way I'm going to do that." He turned and looked over his shoulder. "Right, Gome?"

But Gomer was nowhere to be found.

-

In the wake of Duke's overbearing suspicions, Gomer had quickly dressed and slipped out the door. It pained him to think of his friend being so prejudiced. He only hoped he could somehow get Duke to come around! He strode purposefully down the hall, looking to the left and right in a manner bordering on frantic. "Kim? Kim!"

He gasped in surprise as a hand reached out and pulled him into the storage closet.

The door closed and a single bulb suspended by an exposed wire in the ceiling clicked on.

"What?"

Gomer looked around him in amazement. "This is where you sleep?"

"Yeah. It's the only place I can stay hidden from…" Her brows furrowed angrily. "Look, that's none of your business! Just tell me what's going on, okay?"

Gomer shook his head. "It's terrible, Kim. Terrible, terrible, terrible!"

"Uh-huh," she nodded, prodding him to continue.

"Someone wrote somethin' in Kaymar on our bathroom mirror. In red paint!"

"And it said?"

Gomer had to think for a minute, concentrating hard on the ceiling in an attempt to remember. "Beware of somethin'…an' stop investigatin'…an' somethin' else. I forget exactly."

Kim's face lit up. "This is great!"

Gomer regarded her confusedly. "Why? Duke thinks it's you what did it. So will ever'one else."

Kim laughed. "That's the beauty of it all, Tay-uhng Mool. Look, I couldn't have done it. I'm illiterate. I've never been to school. I can't read Khmer, much less write it!"

"Well, go-oll-ly!" Gomer exclaimed happily. "That is wonderful! But…" His face fell. "How come is it you don't know how to read?"

"Father was a merchant." She said flatly, as if that explained everything. "He couldn't afford school. So I had to go out and work." She glowered at the doorknob, a bitterness evident in her voice.

"You've never forgiven your daddy for that, ain't you? That's why you ain't spoke to him for so long." Gomer gently smiled at her bowed head.

"You would, too! If you'd only known…" She shook her head, pushing a dark strand of hair behind her ear. "Why am I telling you this?"

Gomer shrugged. "I don't mind. But, if your daddy couldn't take care of you…what about your momer?"

Kim frowned. "Look, if you want to interrogate me, you can just butt out, okay?"

Gomer gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Kim. I lost both my momer an' my daddy when I was no more'n knee high to a grasshopper."

"I'm sorry," she spat coldly, "but you don't understand!" She leaned against one of the walls, holding her face in her hands. "N-no one understands!"

"That's cause you're shuttin' yourself away from ever'one what tries to help." A pang struck Gomer as he realized he'd given the same treatment to Duke. His friend had only been trying to help him out!

He overturned a bucket, letting the sponges, mops, and washrags fall to the floor before setting it down and slowly seating himself on it. "You know, what you really need when you're feelin' low…is family."

She sighed. "It always comes back to family, doesn't it, Tay-uhng Mool?" She pushed herself off the wall and stood in front of him, arms crossed. "All right, I'll tell you the truth. All of it. And then you'd better _never _bring this up again.

"My mom was a gypsy. Traveled all over the place, telling folklore to the locals to entertain them late at night. When she came to Takev, she made an unexpected stay. She met my father. Now you have me. She was unhappy, staying in any one place for too long, so she left us. He ended up unable to support himself, let alone me. So I was shipped off to Phnom-Penh, where I was regulated to service staff.

"That got…bad…" She paused, sighing in frustration. "So I ran away. I'd decided to find my mother. I found her tribe in a village not too far from the city. She was telling the story of the stones to a group of people. I sat down with them to watch her perform. She was telling it mainly in the defense of a young girl not much older than me who had recently been executed for murder. My mother believed her innocent of the crime. And…as I watched…a man rose out of the front row…and…and…" She was crying, her shoulders shaking in uncontrollable grief. "Stabbed her, right before my eyes." At this point, she could continue no further. She sank down against the floor despondently.

Gomer sighed heavily. "I know you really don't want me to say this, but…" He quietly seated himself on the floor beside her, hugging his knees uncertainly. "You know…you still got your daddy."

"Some help!" Kim refused to look at him. "I haven't seen my dad in years! You should thank your lucky stars you never, ever had a family like mine!"

"No…but I do got myself a new family now." Gomer twisted the gold band on his left hand, studying it in deep thought. "For most of my life, I had my gran'ma an' gran'pa lookin' after me cause my parents, they died in the second world war. My gran'ma told me so. She showed me pitchers an' ever'thing. Now, if there's anyone who knows anythin' about the Pyle family history, it's Gran'ma. She cain go all the way back through generation after generation of Pyles. She's got stacks an' stacks of books an' papers an' ever'thing. She says it's real important for a feller to know where he's come from to know where he's goin'. My momer, she was a nurse an' she went to England. My daddy, he enlisted an' went to Germany. I kinda went to stay with my gran'ma an' gran'pa one day an' I jus' never left."

He studied the ground, kicking a washcloth with his shoe before continuing. "My daddy, he told me when I was a boy, that a day was gonna come when I was gonna get tested, an' I'd have to make it on my own, without his help. I jus' didn't know when it was gonna be. You know how that is? When you're kinda expectin' somethin', but you really ain't at the same time? It's a real funny feelin'. Well, I had finished high school, an' I was workin' my first job at Wally's Fillin' Station, when I got this notice in the mail, sayin' as how I got to serve a turn of military duty cause I'm between the ages of eighteen an' thirty-five. So I joined the Marines. That was my test. An' you know what? I liked it."

He picked at a loose thread on his uniform and glanced at Kim before continuing. "An' you know what happened? I met Lou Ann. Lou Ann's from Turtle Creek, North Caroliner. That's only eighty miles from Mayberry, by the way. I always used to drive through it when me an' Wally would go in to Charlotte sometimes. Who ever knew that right there she was that whole time, an' I never knew a thing! I'm glad we met, cause when we did…well, she couldn't sing, which was her job, but she was the best girl I ever did meet. We started goin' out to see movies, an' eat at the Bluebird Café, an' walk in the park, an' jus' had the best time together. Ain't no one cain have so much fun doin' anythin' than me an' Lou Ann. I think we enjoy ever'thing so much cause we're jus' glad to do it together. An' she's so purdy, an' she jus' kept gettin' purdier an' purdier, an'…we was married last year."

"You love her." It was a statement, not a question.

He nodded. "An' now…jus' a few months ago, we got us a baby boy. Vincent. He really is the cutest thing. We named him after my sergeant, Sergeant Vincent Carter. He's the best sergeant, an' he's the godfather, too." Even sitting in the cramped hall closet, Gomer couldn't help but swell with pride.

"Good for you." Kim sniffed. "What has that to do with anything?"

"Well…I never really had a momer an' daddy growin' up much, like you didn't neither. An' there's a real good chance that I could get killed in Vietnaam. But I'm gonna try my hardest not to. An' you know why? I got me a family again, an' I love 'em above life itself. Jus' cause I didn't have a daddy after I was six years old, that don't mean I ain't gonna try to be there for Vincent. My son's gonna grow up with one fine momer. An' I hope I get the chance to be a fine daddy, too."

"So?" Kim pouted, obviously bored.

"Well, don't you see? It's a chance to start over. Jus' like the Marines kinda was for me. I ain't the same person I was when I enlisted. An' you ain't been the same since your momer got killed. But if you really wanna start over…" Gomer fought to meet her gaze, placing a hand firmly on her shoulder. "You got to let go of the past."

She stared ahead bleakly. "You miss your family?"

Gomer nodded. "Like crazy, I do."

"Then why are you over here?"

The words came out so piercingly that they hit Gomer like a cold accusation. He swallowed before replying, "Lou Ann an' me…we both understand…that this is my job. It's where I need to be right now. As much as I love 'em, the Marines comes first. We both know that an' we've accepted it. But we're workin' through it together."

"When was the last time you wrote home?"

Gomer frowned, deep in thought. "Couple months ago, I reckon."

"Ha!" She laughed contemptuously.

They sat in silence another minute. Kim's next question unsettled Gomer more than he would have liked to admit.

"Finding out your job isn't all fun and games, is it, Tay-uhng Mool?"

Gomer shifted around uncomfortably, trying to find a new way to sit. "No…no, it ain't. Now, that's enough. Fair's fair. I've talked well enough. Let's talk about you now."

"Boot's on the other foot now, isn't it, Tay-uhng Mool?" Kim smiled gleefully at the position she'd caught him in. "You're obviously not letting go of the past, either. Despite what you might say."

"That's enough." Gomer stood and frowned down at her indignantly. "That's somethin' completely dif'rent! You wouldn't understand! I don't got to tell you ever'thing!"

"Fine." Kim stood and met his gaze coolly, her hazel eyes flashing. "And I don't have to tell you who wrote on your bathroom mirror this morning."

Gomer gaped. "You mean…you know?"

She shrugged. "Of course I do."

"Kim…why don't…?"

She shook her head. "You missed your chance." She opened the door, pausing only to call over her shoulder:

"I'll tell you one thing – it wasn't me!"

-

Duke lay awake that evening, staring at the ceiling. He'd made little progress on the case today, mainly because Kalliyan had insisted on looking for clues in the aquarium. He sighed. Well, he couldn't really blame her. He wasn't exactly a barrel of fun anymore since undertaking his investigations.

The clues he'd gathered spun around in his mind, an incoherent mess that seemed to make sense only one way. _It had to be Gomer's friend…and yet…something's not right here…_

Over in the next bed, Gomer tossed and turned, moaning as his mind helplessly replayed his conversation with Kim over and over again.

_"You're obviously not letting go of the past…not letting go of the past…the past…"_

He turned over on his side, covering his ears in a vain attempt to block out the voice in his head.

_"Miss your family? Then why are you over here?…Over here?…finding out your job isn't all fun and games, is it?…is it?…Ha!"_

Gomer sat up, his eyes wide. What was happening to him? Why did her words refuse to be let alone? He glanced at the clock before covering his face in his hands. 24:12! What was wrong with him?

After a minute of brooding quietly, he got up out of bed and strode over to the desk, clicking the lamp on. For the first time in two months, he wrote a letter home.

Gomer stayed up well into the morning composing his letter. Lou Ann was the one person he could pour his heart out to, lay everything down for. He felt comforted in knowing the paper was only another medium through which he could communicate with her. By the time dawn was peeking over the far horizon, he was sealing and postmarking his letter.

He glanced at the clock. It would be another hour before Duke would awake. He slowly dressed in the dark, moving over to his bag and rummaging through it for his fatigues. He pulled them out, reaching inside the breast pocket to extract a small piece of thin fabric.

Lou Ann had embroidered it for him before he'd made off with her scissors. He'd kept it with him, in that close place, through all the skirmishes, attacks and negotiations. On the fabric, Lou Ann had meticulously stitched 'The Prayer of the Old Horse.' The verse seemed befitting a soldier who risked his life every minute of every day:

**'See Lord,**

**my coat hangs in tatters;**

**all that I had of zest,**

**all my strength,**

**I have given.**

**Now my poor head swings **

**to offer up all the loneliness of my heart.**

**Dear God,**

**Stiff on my thickened legs**

**I stand here before You,**

**Your useless servant.**

**Oh! of Your goodness,**

**give me a gentle death.'**

Gomer read the words haltingly, nodding all the while. When he was finished, he gently replaced the cloth in his pocket. The verse never failed to remind him of his vocation's higher calling. Now the doubts were gone, and he knew what he had to do. He sat back on his bed and looked at the wall. "Well, I guess I jus' got to put my demons to rest."


	21. Trust Your Instincts

**Chapter 21**

_Trust Your Instincts_

"Say hi to Daddy!" Lou Ann cooed, holding Vincent up to the bureau littered with pictures of her husband. "Daddy loves you very, very much."

She felt a pang go through her, as it did every morning when she looked at the pictures. It probably helped her more than it did Vincent to see Gomer every day. It was his eyes that wrenched at her heart day in and day out. His wide brown eyes were mere portals to his very soul. She looked at them and she missed him, everything about him. She was so close. So close, yet so far away…

She hadn't even realized she was hugging Vincent to her until the baby cried out indignantly. She looked down and kissed the top of his downy head.

"I'm sorry, darlin'. Is little Vinny okay?" She held him up to her and sighed happily. She'd almost forgotten about her son. He had those same, beautiful brown eyes as his father. Gomer was right there with her, after all. She need not feel lonesome.

"Oh, Vinny!" She reached up and smoothed his soft tufts of black hair. "You look so much like your daddy!"

The baby waved his arms, gurgling incessantly. Lou Ann smiled and gently laid him against the spit-up towel on her shoulder. "You hungry? Come, let's go eat lunch."

She strolled out to the kitchen, gently lowering the boy in his high chair. She looked up to see the television still flickering in the living space. She sighed. "I thought I turned that thing off!"

"…Last week, the North Vietnamese Army began a new offensive, this time directed at Lon Nol in Phnom-Penh, a city in Cambodia. The Commandant of the Air Force announced today that they will begin thorough air strikes to protect Lon Nol. In a statement released earlier today, he wrote…"

Lou Ann clicked off the television, nodding firmly. "That's enough of that."

"Wish you'd asked first. I was watchin' that."

Lou Ann turned and smiled at her father, who was stretched out on the couch. "I'm sorry, Daddy. But the news is so depressin'. I like it better when it's off."

J. R. Poovie grunted. "Have to know what's goin' on in the world. Ain't your husband Homer over there?"

Lou Ann frowned and sighed. "Daddy, I told you. His name's Gomer. An' yes, I'm perfectly aware of his situation. But I'd rather know what's goin' on through what he writes me, not what some dreary ol' reporter says." She swiftly turned away, thinking about her correspondence. It had been months since she'd last heard from Gomer. She hoped against hope that it wasn't what she thought.

Poovie's expression softened. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I really am tryin'."

Lou Ann smiled and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "I know, Daddy."

Poovie slowly pushed himself off the couch. "Where's my grandson?"

Lou Ann laughed and helped pull him up. "Out in the kitchen. He's hungry."

"Oh, then maybe I should go lie down in the bedroom." Poovie smiled knowingly.

She shrugged. "Well, at least until he's fed."

"Okay." He squeezed her shoulders before disappearing down the hall.

Lou Ann turned and walked back to her son. "Aww," she cooed as Vincent reached his chubby arms out to her upon her arrival. "Did little Vinny miss his mommy?"

She picked him up and rocked him gently before she began feeding him. "You know, you really are too cute for your own good."

She carefully made her way over to the counter, where she'd left a list with various notations. She glanced at her watch before quickly scribbling on the pad, '11:15. LB.' She smiled and rubbed Vincent's back, setting the paper down.

She looked up, startled, as the door slammed and Bunny came running into the room. Her friend stopped short when she caught sight of Lou Ann. "Oh, I'm sorry. Would you rather I come back later?"

Lou Ann smiled, slowly sitting down on the couch. "Actually, no. I don't mind, Bunny." She patted the cushion next to her. Bunny smiled and quickly sat down.

She smiled excitedly. "Oh, I've got enormous news! Vince called me down to the base today."

Lou Ann nodded. "That sounds very excitin'."

Bunny laughed. "No, that's not what I came to tell you! It was what he found on his desk that he called me down for."

Lou Ann nodded, picking up Vincent, who burped, indicating he was through. "What about it?"

"Well, that's just it. It was a letter from Vietnam."

Lou Ann went pale. She gripped her son tightly, a hand flying up to her heart. Her throat constricted, making her feel that she couldn't breathe. Her eyes watered, watching Bunny breathlessly. "Yes?"

"Oh, Lou Ann." Bunny smiled condescendingly. "Gomer's all right. In fact, the letter was from him, telling Vince to deliver this letter to you." She pulled a plain white envelope from behind her back, holding it out to the young mother enticingly.

Lou Ann squealed, quickly snatching it up. "Oh, Gomer! I've worried about him so!"

She handed Vincent to Bunny. The boy waved his arms up and down, wriggling around in his godmother's grasp. Bunny laughed. "You even got little Vince all excited!"

Lou Ann hurriedly slit open the envelope and pulled the letter out. She riffled through the pages, pleased at how lengthy it was. Gomer hadn't been able to write long letters because of Sergeant Brooks before. He must have gone somewhere else to write this.

"Well, well, well!" J. R. Poovie exclaimed, strolling out into the living room. "What's all the ruckus about, now?"

"Gomer's writ home!" Lou Ann cried happily.

"Huh," he grumbled. He caught sight of Bunny's withering look and forced a smile. "That's wonderful, darlin'."

Bunny glanced at Lou Ann, then at Mr. Poovie. She looked down at Vincent, getting up and walking over to the aging man. "Little Vince wants to see his granddad."

Mr. Poovie smiled as he took the infant up in his arms. "Hey there, sport." He knuckled the boy gently. "I've got your nose."

Bunny looked again at Lou Ann, who was flipping through the pages of her letter wistfully. "How about godmama and granddad take little Vince out for a walk in the park?"

Mr. Poovie winked. "Sounds to me like a fine idear."

Lou Ann jumped to her feet. "Keep him wrapped up, there's a breeze outside."

"Yeah," Poovie grunted. "Feels nice. It's eighty degrees out there."

"You don't want him catchin' a chill, do you? After all, he ain't a year old yet!" She quickly began gathering things lying about the room. "There's his carrier…an' the towel…an' you'll need some extry diapers…"

Mr. Poovie placed a hand on his daughter's arm. "Baby, he's goin' for a walk in the park. Not a six month tour of Europe."

Lou Ann looked down at all the items she'd gathered in her arms and smiled ruefully. "Actually, you're right this time, Daddy."

"All right. Come on, Vince. Let's go walk in the park now." Bunny carried the baby out the door, Poovie following close behind with the carrier full of stuff.

Lou Ann smiled and sat down on the couch, settling in to read her letter. Gomer's handwriting, illegible as it was, warmed her. She hadn't seen it for so long! She laid back against the pillow, sighing happily as she began reading his words:

_**'**_**'8 June, 1970**

**Dear Lou Ann, How are you an how's the little feller? I hope you're both doin all right. I hope I haven't worried you too much. I'm sorry this is comin to you so late. I am fine. Nuthins happened. At least I don't think so. But I miss you, Lou Ann. Like nuthin else, I miss you. I wisht you was here right now. I need you. Maybe it's best I start at the beginnin an tell you all whats been botherin me. I got back to Veeitnaam right after my leave in time to go on a scouting mission. I was picked to head one of em cause of my rank. I was spyin on a camp an there was this branch an it went down under my wait an I fell a long way. Lou Ann, I didn't want to tell no one but you ought to know. I done got captured.'**

Lou Ann gasped and closed her eyes. "He's okay," she breathed quietly. "He's okay. He wouldn't be writin' me if he wasn't." She slowly opened her eyes and returned to the letter.

**'It takes a load offen me to be telling you all this. You's the other half of my hole. Please don't be worried about me. Read what I got to say with an open mind.**

**I didn't rightly know jus what was goin on in the beginnin. I was in a room all by myself. An nex thing you know, they's tyin my arms together like I was some kind of animal. An then I was left alone for a real long while. Few days later, they came back an gave me some food an water an a uniform. Then they tried to git informashen outer me. I don't really like the way they did it neither. They really knocked me around an tried to trick me. But it didn't do em much good. I really didn't like that place.**

**Then I escaped. I don't know how I ever made it outer there, but I did. Have you ever been chased around, knowin if you ain't smart enough, you don't git to live? It's the scerriest feelin in the world. I never want to feel it again. I'll tell you this right now, somethin I ain't told anyone else. I almost didn't make it out alive. I owe my life to a hive of bees what was in the right place at the right time. I wouldn't be writin to you right now if they wasn't. I'm gonna be grateful to bees the hole rest of my life.**

**I dragged myself back to camp. I'd got my ankle hurt real bad. But it warn't seereeous. Duke saw me an got me the help I needed. Lou Ann, I didn't tell Duke this, but that time I had as a POW shook me up moren I thought. I jus couldn't believe what I seen there, with them people torturin others. I tried to hide it, but it stayed there in my mind. It really scerred me how close I was to dyin, an it made me sad the way they treated other people. What I was doin made me miss you even more. I guess it kinder became my skelerton in the closet. **

**I'm not sure what happened to me. Somethin did, that's for sure. But I don't know exactly what it is. I'm confused, Lou Ann. I don't know weather this is makin any sense to you or not, but I sure don't. I sure do feel better to be tellin you all this anyway.**

**I gotta get out of here, Lou Ann. War is the terriblest thing what ever happened. I wisht I would've listened to you when you told me to take that terminal leave back in March. You always seem to know what's best for me, Lou Ann. Even when I don't know it myself.**

**I jus feel like I'm startin to doubt everthing I used to be so sure about. I cain't tell what's right an what's wrong anymore. I see somethin wrong, but in another situation I think it's right. I think I sort of lost touch with myself an what I think back at that prison camp. Maybe I jus made a mistake. Maybe I should never have come here. Maybe I should have never left Mayberry.**

**An it ain't fair to you either. You're the best there is, Lou Ann. An you deserve nuthin less. I ain't the best. I think that all my life I been makin terrible mistakes. Goin to war is my biggest one yet. An it ain't fair to Vincent. I love him, but I hardly know who he is. I wisht I could be a father to him, but no matter how hard I try, I don't think I could. I don't even know how.**

**I'm writin to you from Cambodier. It's not much better than Veeitnaam, but at least it's somethin. Somethin fishy is afoot here, an Duke thinks it's my friend what done it. But I know that ain't true. Kim ain't done any of it. I wish you could meet Kim. Duke don't like her. But she an I hit it off right away. She's difrent, all right. Not like you at all. But she needed help, an I was willin to help her. An now we git along real easy. She's the closest thing to a sister I ever had. An I know she's innosent. There's jus somethin that's tellin me she's right without needin any proof. I don't know why it's that way. It jus is.**

**How is Vincent anyway? I hope he's fine. I wisht I could be there watchin my son grow up. Shows what sort of daddy I am. He probly needs one, too. An one who's there to take care of his momer too. I got to git home. I got to somehow put everthing right again, Lou Ann. Things all look so difrent now, even though it still seems to be the same world from before. I miss you, Lou Ann. More than you cain know from my writin. It feels real good to have writ you. I know it was the right thing to do. Only you cain help me now. Tell Vincent his daddy says hey.**

**Sincerely,**

**Gomer'**

Lou Ann wiped the tears from her eyes as she slowly set down the letter. "Oh, Gomer. What's happened to you?"

-

Duke was carefully analyzing the paint sample he'd taken from the writing on the mirror when a short knock came at the door. "Who is it?"

"Letter for Lance Corporal Gomer Pyle."

Duke sighed and stood, irritated by the distraction. "I'm coming, I'm coming."

He opened the door and took the letter from the mail carrier, thanking him curtly before returning to his bed. Gomer was out, where was anyone's guess. He glanced curiously at the loopy handwriting on the envelope before setting it down on his friend's night table. Gomer would find it soon enough.

Duke turned back to his study, as well as his list of names. He'd consulted every paint shop around the hotel and surrounding villages. No store carried this type of paint. Furthermore, they hadn't had anyone coming to their stores asking for red paint in months.

_Something's not adding up. I wonder what in the heck it is I'm missing? _He unconsciously reached over and picked up one of his shirts, then threw it away as he realized it was the one with a piece missing from it. _Whatever it is, it's probably right under my nose, staring me in the face. _He got up and moved over to his portmanteau to pick out a different shirt. _Why?…is there something that's keeping me from seeing it?_

Duke shook his head and moved into the bathroom to change his shirt. He'd promised Kalli he'd take a break from his investigations to go out with her tonight. He definitely hadn't been having much fun on this leave. Perhaps a little time away from analyzing the case would be just what he needed to crack it.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Give me a whole fresh outlook on it."

Suddenly, Gomer burst into the room, frantic with anxiety. "Duke! Duke, where'd you go?"

"Hold on a minute, Gome. I'm changing!" Duke called, loosening his tie.

"Duke!" Gomer called from the other side of the door. "I cain't find Kim! She ain't anywhere!"

"So?" Duke sighed, rolling his eyes as he pulled off his shirt and donned the new one.

"I think somethin' may have happened to her. Somethin' not good."

"Oh? And what makes you say that?" He calmly eyed his reflection, running a comb through his hair.

"I jus' got this feelin', Duke. Somethin' ain't right."

Duke rinsed with water and smiled at his reflection before slowly opening the door and bumping headlong into his friend.

"Duke, you gotta help me look…" Gomer stepped back and studied his friend. "What you clean up for?"

"I'm taking Kalli out to dinner." Duke smiled and brushed himself off. "For the rest of this evening, I'm not going to worry about anything related to this stupid case. I got a rep to uphold, after all. I gotta show my girl a night on the town like she's never had before!"

"Oh." Gomer looked down at the ground. "Well, have a nice time."

Duke put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry about her. I'm not. There's probably a good reason why she's gone missing. Relax." He nodded over to the night table. "Letter came for you this afternoon. Read that. And, uh…if I'm not back until tomorrow morning, don't worry about where I've been."

Gomer nodded. "Sure, Duke. See you later."

Duke hesitated at the door. Gomer hadn't even said one thing about his cavalier love life. He looked so dejected and forlorn, standing there looking at the ground. Maybe he shouldn't leave the poor guy alone. Then again, Kalli was calling his name…

He smiled sadly and stepped out into the hall. "See ya, Gome."

Gomer slowly lay down on the bed as the door clicked shut behind Duke. He sighed and reached over to pick up the envelope on the nightstand. He smiled as he caught sight of the loopy handwriting used in the address. "Lou Ann."

He slowly tore open the envelope and unfolded the sheets enclosed. What better way to spend his evening than talking with his wife?

He clicked on a lamp and settled back against the pillows. Slowly, haltingly, he began reading over her letter:

**'15 June 1970**

**Dear Gomer, **

**It felt wonderful to hear from you again after nearly two months of no letters. But darling, your letter disturbed me so much you couldn't know! Gomer, please don't come home. For if you walk away from the Marines, I shall never speak to you again. **

**Darling, read this well: Never, ever put yourself down like that again! I married you because I love you the way you are, Gomer. You are just confused right now. Don't believe everything your doubts may be telling you.**

**But ever since I read you letter, that's what I've been afraid of. Please, Gomer. You're so sweet, so pure. You know deep down that the Marines mean so much to you. They're strong and brave and honorable. What you're doing is right, Gomer. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Please see this conflict through, darling. As much as I would hate to see you get killed, I rather you wouldn't be here while it's going on even more.**

**I was shocked to hear about you getting captured, Gomer. And I know you're feeling disillusioned right now. But not everyone is like them. Don't let them bring you down morally. Grandma Pyle taught you all about being the bigger person. 'To err is human, to forgive divine,' remember? War is ugly, darling. Both you and I know that. But there is a bigger picture to this all. You're doing this for me. You're doing this for Duke and all your other brothers. You're doing this for your commanders and your country…but most of all, you're doing this for Sergeant Carter. Don't forget that. Love overcomes all, and your devotion to all of us will pave the way for righteousness in your fight. There's no right or wrong when it comes to war, Gomer. It's what you feel in your heart. Don't become confused by what people tell you, darling. Just listen to your heart. And you'll discover what's right for yourself. **

**I was not right when I told you to stay when you came home on leave, Gomer. I was being selfish. The thought of losing you was what made me crazy. You were right, Gomer. Those boys over there need you right now more than I do. Please don't let them down. Vincent is doing fine. And when the war is over, you are going to be the most terrific daddy this side of the world. I know you better, Gomer. And I believe in you. Please believe in yourself.**

**You don't have anything to prove to me, Gomer. You never should. I will love you and support you no matter what. Just as I've loved you and supported you all these months of war. Before you come rushing home to sweep me off my feet and start working nine to five six days a week, remember this: I didn't fall in love with the sweet, naïve filling station attendant from Mayberry, North Carolina. I fell in love with the sweet, naïve Marine he became. I'll always love him, and I simply refuse to believe he could ever be a coward.**

**I'm glad you've still been able to make friends, even in your present mood. Your 'sister' is a mirror reflection of yourself, darling, as much as you wouldn't like to admit it. Stay by her. You know her to be right, so she is. Help her. In doing so, you just may be able to help yourself.**

**Despite it all, love overcomes everything. And I love you, Gomer. I'll always love you, regardless of what happens to you or me. Vincent sends all his love as well. Yesterday, he even moved around in his crib all by himself! He's getting to be independent so fast. He's such a sweetling. He reminds me so much of you. And I love you so, Gomer. I always will. Even if you have changed.**

**Sincerely, **

**Lou Ann'**

Gomer set the letter down. Why did she have to be so far away? He moaned, reaching out for her, and turned over on his side in forlorn loneliness. He missed Lou Ann more than ever. Why couldn't she be with him now? Now, when she'd shown him the way out of the dark abyss?

He fell asleep, more alone than he'd ever been before.

-

He woke slowly, turning over tiredly. He looked down at his rumpled clothes. He'd forgotten to change last night. He scratched his cheek and turned to the bed beside him. "Duke? You awake?"

No reply. The bed was empty.

Gomer sighed. Duke had been out all night with his girl. Again. "Terrible, terrible, terrible." He murmured, falling back against the pillow drowsily.

He must have fallen asleep again, for when he next looked at the clock, it read 13:12.

"Go-oll-ly!" He jumped up and hurried over to his pack. "Cain you believe how long I done overslept, Duke?"

He pulled a fresh shirt and pants out of his bag and folded them carefully. "Duke?" When no one replied, he shrugged.

"I guess I could've slept all day. Bet you didn't get any sleep last night, Duke." Gomer shook his head, tsking lightly. He turned around when he still got no answer. "Duke?"

Save for himself, the room was totally empty.

_Duke ain't back yet? _Gomer scratched his head in puzzlement. Duke had said something about not being back till morning. But now it was the middle of the day!

A sinking feeling began forming in the pit of Gomer's stomach. Lou Ann had told him last night to listen to his heart. He was going to do that, starting right now. And now, he knew, in his heart of hearts, that something was terribly wrong.

Dropping the fresh clothes onto the floor, Gomer dashed out of the room, headed for the hotel restaurant on the ground floor.

-

"Sothear? Sothear!" Gomer bounded into the bar, panting heavily.

The bartender set down his washrag and eyed the Marine critically. "You look like you just crawled out of bed."

"I did." Gomer straightened and gripped the counter urgently. "Sothear, I got to ask you somethin' real important. Did Duke an' Kalli come in here for dinner last night?"

"Something wrong, Marine?"

"I think so. Please, Sothear, you got to tell me!" Gomer looked pleadingly at the bartender.

The bartender held up his hands. "All right, already! If it means that much to you…"

Gomer nodded gratefully and sat down on one of the bar stools.

"Your friend Casanova came in here last night, around seven-thirty, toting that girl on his arm…"

Gomer frowned. "His name is Duke. Actually, it's Gilbert, but he don't like that name, so ever'one jus' calls him Duke."

"Okay." The bartender rolled his eyes. "Anyway, as I was saying, they came in here and ate dinner, right? Then they saw some guys playing cards in the corner and your friend went over and joined them. They were putting up some pretty big stakes, and your friend was losing badly."

"Uh-oh," Gomer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his brows knitted together worriedly. "Duke ain't gambled in the longest time. He promised me he wouldn't no more after he lost the money for my dress blues shootin' craps."

"Here's the funny thing. That girl comes over and sits behind him, right? She pulls out something. Looked very strange. And all of a sudden, his luck begins to change!"

"Hold on a minute." Gomer raised a finger shakily. "What did this somethin' look like?"

The bartender shrugged. "Couldn't really tell. Looked like a bunch of trash pieced together."

Gomer gulped. "Then what happened?"

The man shrugged. "Your friend gathered up his winnings and pranced out of here with that girl hanging on to him."

"Shazaam!" Gomer frantically ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wide with worry. "Duke!" He jumped up out of his seat. "Thank you kindly, Sothear. You been a big help."

With that, he dashed out of the bar.

The bartender threw his hands up in the air. "Americans!" He exclaimed in exasperation, picking up his washcloth and returning to mopping the counter.

-

_I gotta find Kim! _Gomer hurried through the halls, his heart pounding in his chest. "Kim! Kim, come quick! I need your help!"

He opened up the broom closet to find it empty. He was about to close the door again when a note lying on the floor caught his eye. Wary, he slowly crouched down and picked up the sheet of paper.

**'Tay-uhng Mool,**

**Come meet me by the stones as soon as you get this. I'll tell you what you want to know.**

**-Kim Sonisay'**

"I'll be there faster'n you cain say, 'sweet potater pie!'" Gomer murmured, tucking the note into his pocket.

-

"Hey, Kim!" Gomer called, topping the rise. "Kim, where are you? We don't got much time! Duke's in…" He stopped short when he caught sight of the formidable stones. "Go-oll-ly," he breathed quietly.

Now he understood why Duke had been so scared by these rocks. There was something obviously…sinister…in the air. There seemed to be a never-ending fog surrounding the rocks. The wildlife was silent, as if the world were dead. The trees closed in around the clearing, trapping everyone in with the stones. There seemed to be no escape.

Gomer swallowed. "Kim?" He called hoarsely into the clearing. "I'm here now. Kim? Where are you?"

He stiffened as he suddenly felt cold, hard steel pushing into his back. "Don't move!" came the muffled cry from behind.

Gomer slowly raised his hands from his sides. Two arms grabbed them and roughly began tying them together behind his back. Gomer closed his eyes. _Not again! It cain't be happenin' again!_

A sharp blow at the back of his neck sent him stumbling to his knees as everything went black.

-

He groaned, swinging his head in an attempt to regain conscience as the fog slowly lifted from his mind. "Duke?" He moaned. "You there?"

"Right here, Gome. You okay?"

Gomer jumped at the nearness of his friend's voice. He slowly turned his head to see that his wrists were not only bound together behind his back, but they were tied to Duke's as well. The two were sitting on the floor of a dark chamber, tied together so they sat back to back. Gomer grimaced as he caught sight of the iron shackles chaining his feet to the floor. "Who did this?" He murmured drowsily.

"Take a wild guess." Duke grumbled sarcastically.

"So, you're both awake now."

Gomer turned his head in the direction of the voice, coming from a far dark corner of the cell. Out of the shadows stepped Kalliyan. She had a self-satisfied smirk on her face. There was an evil twinkle in her eye. In the dim light of the room, she looked extremely eerie. But the scariest part of her of all was the revolver she was pointing right at them.

"So it was _you _what did it!" Gomer frowned at her indignantly.

"Congratulations, Sherlock Holmes. You've cracked the case." Kalliyan laughed, casually strolling their way.

Gomer glanced at the far wall and gulped. There, the pieced-together junk of the items he and Duke had lost were bound together by twine and were leaning against the concrete wall. Charms. He knew it!

"What's goin' on?" Gomer turned and tried to get a glimpse of his friend's ear.

"According to Kalli, we know too much. This is her version of 'systematic elimination.'" Duke threw a murderous glance at Kalliyan. "And I thought I could trust you!"

She shrugged. "Your mistake."

Gomer tried to turn his head further to talk to Duke, but his stray strands of hair fell over his eyes, clouding his vision. "I need a haircut," he murmured.

"How can you think about that now?!" Duke exclaimed incredulously. "We're a couple of dead ducks!"

"Not quite. I'm not through with you yet." Kalliyan crossed her arms and grinned at them snidely.

Gomer vainly tried to blow his hair out of his eyes, glaring up at Kalliyan. "Why? Why'd you do it?"

Duke rolled his eyes. "Please, Gome. Don't get her started again."

"I'm glad you asked that." Kalliyan strode over and stood right before them. She laughed down her nose at the two Marines and sneered. "And I'm more than willing to tell you the answer."

"Great," Duke sighed. "She told me all this last night. Remember her uncle she's staying with here?"

"Uh-huh," Gomer nodded.

"Her uncle…is Pol Pot."

"Uh-huh." Gomer nodded again.

"Doesn't that mean _anything _to you?" Kalliyan frowned down at the man by her feet.

Gomer knitted his brows together in thought. He was silent for a minute before firmly shaking his head. "No."

Duke groaned. "Gome…Pol Pot's the leader of the Khmer Rouge."

"Oh…what's that?" Gomer asked over his shoulder.

"It's a Communist terrorist party that's been picking up ammo ever since they got Prince Sihanouk on their side! And she's part of it!" Duke snarled in exasperation.

"It's almost exactly like the story of the stones." Kalliyan's eyes lit up in excitement, her expression both mad and eerie in the dim light. "Now, with Sihanouk to help us, we are indestructible. The Khmer Rouge will rise out of the ground and conquer all! There is nothing stopping us now!"

Gomer's eyes widened. "So that's…" He frowned indignantly. "What a mean thing, what a mean thing to do!"

"I tried to keep Dukie here out of it." Kalliyan teasingly ran a finger down Slater's nose. "But he insisted on sticking his nose in what wasn't any of his business."

Duke smiled thinly. "Leave it to me to pick the wolf in sheep's clothing, eh, Gomer?"

"And you," Kalli moved back over so she was standing in front of Gomer once again. "You just had to get all palsy-walsy with the Queen of Angst, Miss Sonisay."

"Kim's a nice girl! What's that got to do with anythin'?" Gomer looked up at her from under lowered brows. He was really starting to not like Duke's girlfriend.

"Oh, perhaps the fact that she was one of us. She had to, after all. She had nowhere to go after my cousin murdered her mother!" She shook her head. "Poor girl. She always was a loose cannon. We somehow knew she'd turn on us someday."

"An' you set this up so it looked like Kim did it! But she didn't! She cain't write!" His brown eyes widened in dawning comprehension. "That note. You wrote it!"

Kalli smiled sarcastically. "My, you catch on fast."

"What have you done with Kim?" He asked quietly.

Kalliyan cackled smugly. "We took care of her."

Gomer hung his head in defeat. "Terrible, terrible, terrible." He murmured softly.

"The Khmer Rouge _will _triumph!" Kalli crowed. "And you two will be our first examples. We are strong now. Nothing, not even the United States Marines can stop us now!"

Duke rolled his eyes. "Cut the crap and just shoot us already, Kalli."

"Not so fast, Dukie." Kalliyan stuck her tongue out at him. "This is _my _moment. Besides, a quick, painless death isn't the Khmer way." She casually tossed the pistol away into a far corner of the cell.

Gomer swallowed uneasily. "Jus' what are you goin' to do?"

"Oh, we have to shut you up…permanently." She smiled with pleasure. "But we might as well have some fun while we do it, don't you think?"

"Yeah, a real grand old barrel of laughs." Duke muttered dismally. Gomer just stared bleakly at the floor.

"Right again, Einstein." Kalli moved over and rapped against an old water heater. "Why be so dull in shooting you…" She pulled out a wrench and hauled it against the rusted box with all her might. It punched a hole right through. Water trickled out of the hole and spilled slowly onto the concrete floor. "…when there's so much more satisfaction I can get out of drowning you alive?"

Duke watched the trickling water with growing horror. Gomer was slowly shaking his head, still trying to get his hair out of his eyes.

Kalli turned back to the hole. "Let's get this party started, shall we?" She twisted the wrench, enlarging the hole. The water began spilling out at an alarmingly faster rate.

"Now what are you going to do?" Duke watched her closely. "Stand here and watch us?"

She smiled. "Sorry, boys. I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got a plane to catch. Uncle and Sihanouk are waiting for me back in Hong Kong."

"Hong Kong?!" Duke exclaimed.

"So we may be in exile right now. But we won't be for long! Not at the rate we're going." She smirked and flounced over to the stairs. "See you later, boys."

"You won't get away with this!" Duke yelled angrily. But she'd already closed the door behind her. They could hear the sickening sound of a key turning, locking them inside.

Duke gulped as the water gathered around his ankles. "I…I guess this is it, buddy."

Gomer didn't respond. He gazed sadly down at his reflection in the water as it slowly grew closer and closer.


	22. Home for the Holidays

**Chapter 22**

_Home for the Holidays_

Duke sighed. "Come on, Gome. Talk to me here. We can't just give up! You've got a wife and kid to think about! Let's go!"

"Duke…we're up to our waist in water. I ain't really in the mood to hear it." Gomer muttered gloomily.

"Gome, with that kind of thinking, we're getting nowhere. Now, shape up. If there's one thing Sergeant Carter's said once, he's said it a dozen times. Marines never give up. And that's exactly what you're doing." Duke shook his head in frustration. "Now, come on! There's got to be some way out of this!"

Gomer shrugged ruefully. "I'll try…don't see what good it'll do, though." He sat in silence for another minute before trying to look over his shoulder once again. "Duke…if you somehow make it out an' I don't…will you promise me somethin'?"

"What?"

"Could you tell ever'one Gomer says hey?"

"What?" Duke shook his head. "Gomer, snap out of it! Now, come on. On the count of three, push against me and try to stand up."

"All right," Gomer murmured dejectedly. "But I still don't see what good it'll do. We ain't goin' nowhere."

Duke tried to ignore the cold chill seeping into his legs and groaned. "Gome, the higher we are off the ground, the longer it's gonna take to drown us."

Gomer shrugged. "Why do we wanna put it off? It ain't gonna get us out of here."

Duke growled. "Look, it'll at least buy us some time! I'm up to my elbows in water here! Now, come on! One…two…three!" He pushed against Gomer with all his might, desperately trying to find the momentum to stand.

Gomer threw his weight back half-heartedly. They both rose a few inches off the ground before Duke overbalanced and sent them both crashing on their sides. Gomer shook his head. "This ain't never gonna work."

"Got any better ideas? If you do, I'd sure like to hear 'em!" Duke pulled himself back upright. Gomer was forced to follow.

"Now we's in the same position we was before." Gomer sighed sadly.

"That's it!" Duke cried. "I am sick and tired of your attitude! You just wanna give up, fine! But I'm not going down without a stiff fight! Look, we're tied together. The only way we're gonna possibly get out of here is if we work together!" He turned and tried to get a glimpse of Gomer and sighed. "I know it's not any of my business what's going through your head right now. But before you just give up, you might wanna think of little Vincent's face when he looked up and saw his father for the first time."

Despite the wave of water rising up over his chest, Gomer's mind was taken back to that day at the hospital no more than four months ago…

-

_"Pyle…"_

_Gomer frowned as he felt a hand tapping him on the shoulder. Couldn't they see he was trying to sleep? He waved it away and readjusted his position slowly._

_"Pyle, wake up!"_

_Gomer slowly shook his head, still desperately trying to cling to the edges of unconsciousness._

_"PYLE, YOU KNUCKLEHEAD!"_

_Gomer's eyes flew open as he sat bolt upright in his chair. "Pyle, Gomer. Lance Corporal. One three o, two nine three double o."_

_"Pyle, cut that out! You're not a POW."_

_Gomer looked up and blinked. As the sleep lifted from his eyes, the blurry figures sharpened themselves until he could see they were Colonel Grey and Sergeant Carter. The fluorescent lighting behind their heads glared down at him, reminding him of the dentist's office. _Where am I, again?

_He slowly looked about the room to see the rows of empty chairs and sofas. A sitting room. No, a waiting room. Yes, a waiting room. For what? For babies! Yes, of course! He was in the hospital! He looked around in search of the other father that had been sitting with him and Sergeant Carter earlier._

_"Where's that one feller with nine kids?" He looked up at Colonel Grey and Sergeant Carter, suppressing a yawn._

_Colonel Grey smiled gently. "He left four hours ago. Come on, Pyle. There's someone who wants to see you."_

_Gomer slowly pushed himself up out of the chair, but his feet seemed rooted to the floor. He held out his arms helplessly. Colonel Grey took one, Sergeant Carter the other. With great care, he was led over to the window on the other side of the room. They stopped and let go. A white clad nurse smiled at him from the other side of the glass. In her arms, she held a tiny baby, still pinched and red from the birth. It was no more than a few minutes old._

_Gomer looked down at the infant and his heart rose in his throat. He swallowed, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Is that…?"_

_"He's your son," Colonel Grey answered gently from behind his shoulder. _

_Gomer sighed, the biggest smile spreading over his face. The baby had such a sweet face. He could see his own reflection in the baby's wide brown eyes. The liquid depths of his pupils were so arresting, so pure. He held his small arms up by his face, his small fingers curled about his pudgy palm. A small chill went through Gomer. Just yesterday, this child didn't even exist. And now he was here. It was a miracle. And he and Lou Ann were the ones responsible for it. Who knew they could make something so beautiful?_

_Tears clouded his eyes. He slowly brought his hand up from his side and waggled his fingers at the baby. "Hey there, little feller."_

_When he thought he saw the baby smile back, Gomer thought his heart would burst. Lou Ann had been right. Their baby was absolutely adorable. He'd been nervous about becoming a father before. He sniffed and smiled down at his infant son. Now that he actually was one, it felt amazing._

_A tear ran down Gomer's cheek as he laughed softly. "Look at him. He likes me!"_

_He didn't even feel Sergeant Carter's hand on his shoulder as he gazed happily down at his little son's face…_

_-_

Gomer's expression hardened with new resolve. "You're right, Duke. I cain't let Vincent down! Count it off."

Duke smiled and braced himself. Now they were getting somewhere! "All right. On the count of three. One…two…three!"

Both men pushed against each other, their feet finding firm ground on the submerged floor. With a grunt, a groan, and a pull, the two were standing back to back in the flooded chamber.

Gomer looked down. "You're right, Duke. This is better. The water only comes up to our knees now."

"Yeah, but it's rising fast." Duke racked his brains for a plan. "If we could only somehow undo our hands, I know we'd be able to reach over and grab those keys to the shackles over there." Duke nodded to the far wall.

Gomer pulled against the ropes binding his hands and winced. "I don't know, Duke. They's purdy tight."

Duke tested them for himself and sighed. "You're right. We're doomed!"

"You jus' said not a minute ago we cain't think like that. We jus' gotta try somethin'!" Gomer protested.

"Hmm. Time for plan B," Duke murmured thoughtfully.

"What's plan B?"

"HELP!" Duke screamed at the top of his lungs.

-

Agonizing minutes ticked by like hours. Duke and Gomer had screamed themselves hoarse. If either of them lowered his chin, it would be submerged in water.

"This is hopeless, Gome. We're goners!" Duke croaked hoarsely.

"Poor Lou Ann," Gomer murmured. "Poor Vincent."

Duke rolled his eyes. He was about to reply when a tapping noise came at the window. A crack sounded and the window opened. Kim poked her head through the opening and started in surprise. "Whoa. Were you guys planning on having a beach party in the basement?"

"Kim!" Gomer's eyes lit up happily.

Duke repressed a groan. "Very funny. Now, get us out of here!"

"I'm coming, keep your pants on." The girl slipped through the window and dived into the water.

Gomer smiled. "We took you for dead!"

Kim reappeared at their side, floating above the water. "Yeah, well, let's just say I'm smarter than the average Communist."

"Uh, in case you haven't noticed…we're drowning here." Duke gestured with his head impatiently.

"Hold on! I'll get you out." She held up a penknife and shook her head at the two Marines, taking in their beards and bloodshot eyes. "Gosh, you guys look awful."

"Tell us something we don't know, huh?" Duke smiled insincerely at their rescuer.

Kim rolled his eyes. "Whatever." She dived under the water. A few seconds later, they could feel her begin to work away at the knots binding their hands.

"Come on, come on, we don't got all day!" Duke murmured impatiently.

"We ought to be grateful she's even here, Duke. Now we might jus' get out of here alive." Gomer reminded him softly.

Just then, the ropes fell away. Duke lifted his hands triumphantly. "All right! Now grab those keys over there!" He pointed wildly.

"I'm on it." Kim murmured, grabbing them off the wall and diving underwater again.

Both Gomer and Duke had to tip their heads so far back that they touched in order to keep their faces above water.

"Come _on," _Duke groaned.

Precious seconds ticked away. The water crept closer and closer, flooding their ears. Gomer swallowed uneasily. Even he was beginning to wonder what was taking Kim so long.

With a click, the heavy chains fell away and the two men were able to float safely to the surface of the water. Duke smiled for a split second before he looked up to see the ceiling right above his head. "Come on, let's get out of here!"

With little trouble, all three crawled out of the window leading outside and shut the glass firmly behind them.

Duke pulled off his shirt and wrung it out on the grass. "I feel so much heavier. My clothes are sopping wet."

Gomer, sitting a-ways off, let out a short laugh and enveloped Kim in a hug. "I'm real glad you're all right."

"Me too." Kim smiled. "Tay-uhng Mool, you've helped me more than I would have ever thought possible."

"You did, too." Gomer smiled down at her, holding her at arm's length. "You wanna know somethin'? You's the closest thing to a sister I ever had."

"And you're like a big brother to me."

Gomer shook his head gratefully. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! Cause of you, I get to see my son again."

Duke rolled his eyes as he started untying his shoes.

"It's too late to stop Kalliyan," Kim murmured. "I am afraid. The Khmer Rouge is too strong, too powerful. It will soon rear its ugly head. We are lucky we escaped with our lives."

Gomer nodded. "Not ever'one will be so lucky." He hung his head and shook it slowly. "Shame, shame, shame."

"Where will you go from here?" Kim gently met his gaze inquisitively.

Gomer shrugged. "Back to Vietnaam, I guess." He smiled. "What you plannin'?"

"Well, I think I'll go back to Takev. There's no better time than the present to see my father after so long." She smiled softly. "Go make that new beginning, you know?"

Gomer grinned. "Well, I'll be." He fumbled around in his pocket for a pen before finally locating one. "Here," he gently took her arm and scribbled a note across it. "This is me an' Lou Ann's apartment address back home. You cain write us whenever you'd like to."

Kim laughed. "Thanks. I will."

"Ahem." Duke tapped his foot impatiently.

Gomer glanced at his friend before turning sheepishly to Kim. "I guess I gotta go now."

Kim nodded. "All right."

Gomer slowly stood. He grinned and gave one of his little waves. "I'll see you later."

Kim nodded. "Same to you, Tay-uhng Mool." She smiled and gave a pert wave of her own before disappearing into the darkness.

Gomer turned to his friend. "Duke…I realize there's an apology in order. You was doin' all this jus' to help me. An' I was bein' difficult." He looked down and shuffled his feet. "I'm real sorry. Truly, I am."

Duke slowly smiled before punching Gomer on the shoulder. "Hey, it's all on the number one. What do you say? Ready to go home to our loving Sergeant Brooks?"

Gomer laughed. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"Come here, buddy." Duke slung his arm around Gomer's shoulders as they slowly started walking back toward the hotel. He took in a deep breath of night air and coughed. "Man, you smell like a wet dog!"

Gomer smiled. "My first dog, Tiny, he would run out in the rain, an' then he'd come in an' trek all over the house. You know how it is when dogs get out in the rain? They jus' run an' run, and Tiny, he would roll around. He jus' loved that rain. An' then when he'd come in an' walk all over the place, all we'd smell for weeks was that wet dog smell."

Duke smiled. By the way his friend sounded, it seemed like he was his old self again. "You know, I went to a lot of trouble for you. I even went to Colonel Hanson for help."

"Goll-ly. You was that worried about me?"

"Yeah, of course. And you were right, Gome. He's a pretty cool guy…"

-

Bunny Carter shook her head, carefully placing a carton of eggs in her shopping cart. "It's a shame how the prices keep spiking up week after week."

Lou Ann smiled from where she stood comparing two packages of cheese. "We've been at this for about near an hour. I sure hope Daddy ain't waitin' on us where we left him by the entrance."

Bunny laughed. "With any luck, he's probably still catching up on his nap."

"Aww," a woman caught sight of Lou Ann's cart and walked up to where Vincent was strapped in the child's seat. "He's adorable! Is he yours?"

"Actually, he is." Lou Ann walked up beside her and smiled. "His name's Vincent. We named him after his godfather."

"Well, that's an interesting choice," the woman replied. "How old is he?"

"Eight months tomorrow." Lou Ann gently tickled his stomach.

"My! A young little thing!" The woman smiled. She looked up at Bunny. "And who are you?"

"The godmother," Bunny grinned graciously. "My husband was her husband's sergeant."

The woman's face fell. "Oh. You're in the military?"

"Marines." Lou Ann smiled and lifted the baby out of his seat, gently placing him over the spit-up towel. "Vinny here was born nine months after Gomer was deported to Vietnam."

The woman's eyes widened in abhorrence. "How vulgar!"

The baby slowly began to cry. Lou Ann swiftly turned, patting his back. "Vinny needs a change. Bunny, cain you watch the cart while I got take care of it?"

Bunny nodded, handing her the diaper bag.

"Thank you," Lou Ann smiled, gently cradling the baby as she made her way toward the restroom.

"Well, I certainly didn't know I was talking to a bunch of hawks!" The woman huffed.

Bunny put her hands on her hips indignantly. "Look here, sister. We aren't hawks! Just because we've got husbands in the military doesn't mean we support the war! Supporting the war and supporting the troops are two entirely different things!"

"Hah!" The woman sniffed. "I don't see your precious boys doing anything about stopping the war!"

Bunny's jaw dropped. "They can't help it! Gomer's out in some jungle halfway around the world serving for us!" She gestured in the direction Lou Ann had left. "That poor young mother could become a widow at any second and you don't even care!"

The woman shrugged. "It isn't my fault she married a serviceman." She muttered, uttering the last word in disparagement.

Bunny's temper flared. "You just happen to be talking to a sergeant's wife, you know!" She clenched her fists, seething with rage. "And servicemen are people, too! Get out of here!"

The woman stood there, eying her coolly.

Bunny marched up to her, not stopping until their noses touched. Her nostrils flared and her eyes flashed red angrily. "GO! MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE IT!"

"Well!" The woman cried, quickly hurrying on her way.

A few minutes later, Lou Ann returned with Vincent in tow. "We're back, an' Vinny's got a lemon-fresh diaper." She slowly lowered him into his seat and grimaced. "I wonder how long that's gonna last."

Bunny laughed. "You're a good sport, and that's all that matters." She gently squeezed Lou Ann's arm. "You know, so far you've been a phenomenal mother."

Lou Ann smiled at Bunny, then down at the baby. "I love him, an' I got to be the one what cares for him. Actually, I don't really know much at all. But when it comes to Vinny, I jus' kinda know right away. It ain't always fun, but it's worth it." She slowly shook her head as the baby laughed delightedly, reaching his chubby arms up to his mother. "Actually, _very _worth it."

"Maternal instincts are wonderful, aren't they?" Bunny smiled bemusedly, her finger tapping her chin in thought. "I feel the same way when I take care of Tipper…" her face slowly fell. "Or Vince, for that matter."

Lou Ann laughed, then frowned as she looked down at her list. "Oh, my. We've already been here an hour…an' I've got so much more left on this here list!"

Bunny nodded. "I know what you mean. I'm all done here in the produce, but I'd like to get most of my Christmas shopping done here and now."

"We'll meet in the clothes department in, say, an hour?" Lou Ann looked down at her watch.

Bunny synchronized hers and nodded. "All right. Let's go!"

-

"Granddad's real particular about the contents of his cereal," Lou Ann murmured, checking the label on a box. "It makes him real hard to shop for."

Vincent, bored, reached out and fingered a box on the shelf. He squealed with delight as it tipped over and crashed to the floor.

"Vinny!" Lou Ann stooped down to retrieve the box, only to feel another one come down on her head. "Stop that!"

The baby just laughed and gurgled gleefully.

"Now, do you want somethin' to hold while Mommy shops?" Lou Ann put the cereal boxes back on the shelf and rummaged around in her cart. "Here, Vinny. You cain play with Granddad's coffee." She handed him the tin and turned back to the cereal boxes.

She'd only just glanced at the ingredients before the can sailed through the air toward her face. She ducked it in the nick of time. "Vinny!"

The baby laughed and clapped his hands.

"You're bein' a very bad boy today." She murmured, stooping to pick up the tin.

"Ma-Ma." Vincent replied, reaching out for his mother.

"Now I see what this is all about." Lou Ann dropped the coffee tin in the cart before gently taking the infant's hands in hers. "You want Mommy's attention, don't you?"

"Ma-Ma." He cocked his head at her and smiled happily.

Lou Ann giggled and sighed. "You're cute, but that ain't gonna work. Mommy needs to get her shopping done. An' if she don't, we're liable to be here all day. You don't want that now, do you?"

Vincent laughed and reached upward with his tiny, red fingers in search of something to latch onto. It was no use. As soon as he had his mother's attention, he was a perfect angel.

Lou Ann sighed, pushing a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Oh, Vinny. Whatever am I gonna do with you?"

"I don't know. Maybe if you wait around long enough, he'll answer you."

Lou Ann looked up to see a man scowling at her from the oatmeal shelf. She blushed profusely. "Um…thank you for tellin' me, sir."

She unclipped the baby's seat belt and hoisted him into her arms. "All right, Vinny. If you won't let me look at cereal labels all by myself, then we'll jus' have to look at them together."

She turned back to the two boxes and scanned over their labels. "Now. Which cereal do you think Granddad would like better?"

The baby reached out and smacked one of the boxes with his palm. Lou Ann looked down at him and nodded. "Actually, I thought so, too."

-

Bunny studied the rack full of pet toys before her, deliberating over what she should buy Tipper for Christmas.

"Oh, I don't know…maybe he'd like the rawhide bone best." She murmured to herself, reaching up to pull the bone, encased in plastic packaging, off of the rack. It jerked at her tug, but stayed where it was. Bunny frowned, grabbing the package with both hands and pulling. It still wouldn't budge.

"What's wrong? Can't it come off the stupid hook?" She exclaimed, going red in the face. She planted her feet against the base of the wall, straining against it with all her might.

With a snap, the bone flew off the display rack and out of Bunny's hands, propelling her back from the wall. It sailed through the air in seemingly slow motion. Bunny watched its journey with a growing feeling of horror. Too soon, it crashed into and splintered an empty fish tank that was already filled to the brim with water.

A store clerk looked up from where he'd been selling paint to a customer. He calmly regarded the mess. "Hey, lady. You plan on buying that tank?"

Bunny glared at him, putting her hands on her hips. "Are you kidding me?! The thing flew right out of my hands! Why in the world would I want with that hunk of junk?"

The clerk calmly nodded to a sign posted next to his register. It read: 'STORE POLICY: YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT.'

Bunny smiled meekly. "Did I say junk? What I meant to say was, I'd love to own such a beautiful tank…"

-

_Vegetables, TV dinners… _Lou Ann thought hurriedly, quickly scanning the frozen food items as Vincent bawled for her attention. _I wish I could do somethin' about him, but I cain't. After all, I'm only one person._

She vainly tried to hush the baby's cries, glancing around her in embarrassment. _Ever'one is lookin' at us!_

"Please, sweetie! Mommy's in a hurry, an' she cain't get anythin' done if you keep on cryin'! Please behave for Mommy!"

She turned back to the shelves, scanning them for her father's fat-free frozen yogurt. _There are times I wish Daddy warn't so picky…_

She stopped and gaped. She'd found the frozen yogurt…sitting on the very top shelf of the freezer, a good three feet above her head.

She patted the top of her son's head absentmindedly. "Hush, hush," she whispered hoarsely. Swallowing, she slowly turned back to the shelf. If only Gomer were here! He'd be tall enough to reach it without problem! She opened the freezer door and shivered. Vincent cried harder.

She kicked some sherbert cartons aside and grappled the bottommost shelf with her feet. Reaching up, she could still just barely brush the container with her fingers.

With a sigh of frustration, Lou Ann looked down and swept aside a few boxes of ice cream bars with her foot. She shivered and slowly stepped up to the next highest shelf. Finally, she was able to reach up and grab the frozen yogurt.

To her horror, the door began wildly swinging toward her. She tossed the carton into the basket of her cart and jumped down in the nick of time.

"Now, Vinny, please!" She pleaded, gently patting his back. He quieted a bit, evoking a sigh of relief from his mother. "All right, now. Let's go see if we cain find Aunt Bunny."

She slowly started pushing her cart toward the clothes department. Who knew grocery shopping could be so harrowing?

"Free sample?" A saleswoman asked, holding out a cup to Lou Ann as they came to the end of the aisle.

"Thank you," she smiled gratefully and accepted the sample.

It only took the few seconds Lou Ann had her back turned for Vincent to reach out and grapple a package of paper towels from the middle of the display pyramid. He squealed with delight as the whole stack of paper towels came tumbling down.

Lou Ann turned and gasped in abhorrence. "Vinny!"

Behind her, the saleswoman reached over and picked up a telephone situated on her table. "Send clean-up crew to aisle seven."

-

Bunny hurriedly pushed her way to the clothes department in the center of the store. Finally! She looked around. Where was Lou Ann and the baby? Weren't they supposed to meet her here?

She looked about her as she walked, paying no attention to the objects in her direct path. Twice she bumped into clothes racks, and three times she had to apologize to people with whom she collided carts with. And there was still no sign of Lou Ann.

"Where is she?" Bunny muttered. This was a disaster! Why had they even agreed to split up in the first place?

Lou Ann was also in the clothes department – in children's, all the way on the opposite side of Bunny.

"Oh, my," she murmured, scanning the premises for Bunny. Vincent reached out toward a display of wool socks. She looked down in time to see it and slapped his hand away. "No!"

Stunned for a second, Vincent looked up at her wide-eyed. Then he began to cry again for all he was worth.

Lou Ann suppressed a groan as she slowly continued on her way, looking around in desperation.

Bunny stopped with a start, oblivious to the rack of jeans she'd just rammed into. She could hear a thin baby's wail among the ruckus. It could have been a wild guess, but she somehow knew that it was Vincent. "Lou Ann!" She cried, slowly starting in the direction of the voice.

She looked all about her, scanning the rows of clothing for Lou Ann. Her search was so avid that she failed to notice another cart that she ran headlong into, slamming to a stop. She looked, her mouth open to apologize. Then she slumped forward over her cart, her arms outstretched toward the other shopper. "Oh, Lou Ann. I found you!"

Lou Ann reached around her screaming baby and clasped her friend's hands. They stood there for a minute, overwhelmingly relieved.

Once they'd recomposed themselves, they silently made their way toward the checkout. Bunny kept their spot in line while Lou Ann handed Vincent off to her father with instructions to take him outside until he'd calmed down. Neither of them voiced their concerns, but they were both thinking the same thing: Life was indeed much more hectic without the boys around.

-

Several weeks had passed into months once Gomer and Duke had returned to duty after their excursion in Cambodia. Things were much the same as they had been before, but the two men were able to grin and bear it. Even Sergeant Brooks was seemingly more tolerable these days, if that was ever possible. He was still his grumpy, irrepressible self, but with Duke making a joke about him to ease the tension as soon as his back was turned, it definitely seemed easier to put up with him.

Nevertheless, as it neared Christmastime once again, Gomer couldn't help but sink into lower and lower spirits. Duke tried to placate him, but to no avail. The season had depressed Gomer once again.

_Great, _he thought in frustration as he watched Gomer sigh listlessly over rations one rainy evening. _Just when I had him all cheered up, they had to bum him out big time!_

As it turned out, he spoke too soon.

Just before the sun rose on an abnormally clear day one morning as the troops were lined up and ready to move out, Sergeant Brooks pulled a piece of paper out of his breast pocket and slowly unfolded it, gruffly clearing his throat. Though they didn't dare move, looks of confusion swept through the ranks.

"Cocklin," he barked. "Lancaster, Newman, Pyle, Slater. Report to the Colonel's office immediately." He folded the list back up and stood there, staring at the men impatiently. The five he called slowly fell out, tentatively making their way toward Colonel Hanson's tent.

"What are we, snails or soldiers? Double time it! Move move move!"

The five men broke into a brisk jog.

"Yes, sir! Double timing, sir! Am I going fast enough, sir?" Duke muttered crossly under his breath.

Lancaster chuckled. "Hey, you guys have any idea what this is all about?"

"Yeah, is it like, number one or number ten? You know?"

"Hold up," Cocklin glanced around to make sure they were out of Brooks' sight before slowing to a stop by a bush on the outskirts of camp. "Any of you goofs got a church key on you?"

"Look, what's this all about, huh?" Duke stopped and put his hands on his hips.

Cocklin gestured to the bush. "This is my own personal speakeasy, if you will." He grinned. "I got a couple of unopened beers stashed away for safekeeping. Anyone interested?"

Gomer quickly backed away from the bush. "No thank you. I don't ever wanna drink anythin' like that again!"

"Whatever floats your boat, buddy." Cocklin shrugged and reached in to pull out his stash. He held them up triumphantly, then frowned when he found them to be halfway empty. "What the hell?"

Duke chuckled. "Looks like a couple of Charlies found your stash and helped themselves to it!"

"Aww!" Cocklin exclaimed in dismay. He turned and hurled them back into the jungle. "Here you go, you damned Charlies! I hope those landed on your heads, too!"

"Come on, we'd better scram. The Colonel'l wonder what's been keeping us." Duke picked the jog back up and motioned for the rest to follow. Gomer was more than happy to oblige.

-

"Cocklin, Lancaster, Newman, Pyle, and Slater reporting as ordered, sir!" Duke declared before stepping back in line with the other men.

Colonel Hanson stood. "At ease. You men are probably wondering why I called you here. Before you start getting any ideas, I'll inform you that this isn't a 'stripping down' of any sort." He paused as the men bit back smiles. "In fact, some of you may view this as a reward. However, that isn't the case in this situation. It was completely random. And your five numbers came up. You men will be going home for Christmas."

It took all of Gomer's reserve to keep from smiling. With those eight words, the Colonel had just made his biggest wish come true.

-

Duke and Gomer sent a notice through express mail back to Sergeant Carter at Camp Henderson of their news. Corporal Boyle was the first to know. He had casually collected the mail, about to set it down on Carter's desk when the express envelope caught his eye. The rest of the mail slipped through his fingers and fell to the floor. He glanced at the sending address, his eyes widening in surprise. "From Vietnam!"

Without another thought, he quickly sat down and tore open the letter.

Carter was running a routine inspection of the barracks. He looked over one of the men's bunks with disgust. "Lombardi, look at this! It's awful!"

"Sir?"

"Look at these corners! All these creases, they make it look like a recruit did it!" He pulled out the slightly creased corners of Lombardi's bunk and shook them indignantly. "Make sure it doesn't happen again!"

"Yes, sir!"

Carter moved on down line, nodding approvingly at Lester's creaseless corners. "Now _that's _the way you make your bunk!" He opened Lester's locker door and gawked. "What…what happened here?" He frowned at Lester. "Hummel, I thought you knew better than this!"

"Sir?"

"Your footlocker's on the wrong side! You can hardly fit your shovel in here that way!" He scooted the box slightly to his satisfaction before turning back to Lester. "Make sure you keep your things organized more according to regulation!"

"Yes, sir!"

Carter shook his head. "All right, Lebrowski. Let's see what damage you did."

"Sarge! Sarge!" Corporal Boyle cried, bounding into the middle of the barracks.

"What's this all about, Boyle? Can't you see I'm in the middle of an inspection here?" Carter turned his wrath on Boyle, his eyes flashing angrily.

"Sarge, look at this!" Boyle held out a sheet of paper, which Carter snatched away in irritation. "Pyle and Slater are coming home for Christmas!"

Carter's "They are?" was drowned out by the rousing cheers sent up by the platoon.

-

Gomer and Duke were all smiles as they slowly made their way through customs. Duke breathed deeply and sighed. "Ah, the good old US of A."

Gomer turned and smiled at Duke over his shoulder. "You sure that ain't my cologne?"

Duke took a stronger whiff and wrinkled his nose, fanning the air with his hand. "Yeah, I'm sure. You wearing that 'Man and Horse' junk again?"

"I think it smells nice." Gomer sniffed and turned back around. "Look, Duke, look! Christmas lights!" He pointed happily.

Duke looked up and laughed at the bright, twinkling lights decorating the escalator. "Gosh, I feel like a kid in a candy store!"

Before long, they were emerging back into the world over the airport terminal. Duke smiled as he caught sight of Gomer anxiously scanning the faces in the crowd.

"Relax, buddy. They'll be here."

"Huh?" Gomer glanced at his friend, then sighed. "Well, I guess so."

"I know so!" Duke patted his arm reassuringly. "Believe me, I'm just as anxious as you are to see your son."

He looked up in time to catch sight of Lou Ann gently leading a toddling youngster with both hands. "Wanna go see Daddy? We're going to see Daddy," she cooed gently, with the baby eagerly squealing each time in reply.

Gomer's eyes widened as he saw them, instinctively crouching to the baby's level. Duke stood a few feet away, smiling as he watched his friend reunite with his family.

Lou Ann pointed and slowly let go. "Go to Daddy!"

Gomer's heart soared as his son took two wobbly, unsteady steps before falling into the safety of his father's arms.

Gomer hugged the boy to him, tears glistening in his eyes. "Vincent…you done growed up on me again."

He slowly stood, Vincent in his arms. His voice caught in his throat as he smiled at his wife. Wordlessly, he folded her into his arms. Lou Ann buried her head in his chest and allowed herself to finally cry. He kissed the top of her head and leaned against her. It felt so good to hold her close once again.

"Ga!" Vincent cried, waving his arms excitedly.

Gomer and Lou Ann laughed and smiled at their son. Their eyes met as they did so. One of the tears Lou Ann had shed slid down her cheek. Gomer reached up ad brushed it away with his thumb. "Don't cry," he murmured, ignoring the tears running down his own face.

They leaned close and gently kissed each other on the mouth. Lou Ann gripped Gomer's arm as tightly as she could. Gomer's arm encircled her waist, hugging her as close to him as was possible.

"Ahem," Duke cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Reluctantly, they broke off and Gomer turned to his friend ruefully. "Goll-ly, I'm sorry, Duke." He gestured to his friend. "Lou Ann, here's Duke. You 'member him."

Lou Ann smiled and stepped forward, offering her hand. "It's so nice to see you again, Corporal Slater."

Duke held up a hand before shaking her proffered one. "Please, Lou Ann. We've known each other for so long, there's no reason to call me anything but Duke."

"Thank you for bein' there for Gomer, Duke." Lou Ann gratefully kissed his cheek.

"Don't think of it." His complexion reddened. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for my best friend."

"Duke…I want you to meet my son." Gomer slowly walked up to his friend, holding the baby up in his arms. "This is Vincent Gomer Pyle."

"Hey, buddy." Duke cooed softly, reaching up and tickling the baby's stomach. "Why, Gomer! Why didn't you tell me he looked just like you?"

"Don't he, though?" Lou Ann laughed and brushed one of Vincent's boyish black locks to the right.

"Aww," Gomer smiled sheepishly.

"He's so sweet!" Duke laughed as the baby, smiling, latched onto one of his fingers.

"He is now, anyway. He jus' loves bein' the center of attention!" Lou Ann sighed. "You guys don't know him like I do. He is a real piece of work!"

"Come on, Duke. We fixed up the guest room for you." Gomer smiled.

"Yeah, we moved Vinny's crib into our room, an' Daddy agreed to sleep on the couch." Lou Ann added.

"You daddy's here?" Gomer asked pensively.

"Yes!" Lou Ann playfully slapped Gomer's stomach.

"Oh, no. I, I couldn't impose on you like that." Duke shook his head. "Not that I'm not flattered."

"Please, Duke." Lou Ann implored. "We'd be honored to have you stay with us. After all, we cain't have you spend Christmas in some dingy hotel."

"Well, if you're sure I wouldn't be putting anyone out." Duke smiled. "Thanks, Gome."

Gomer clapped his friend on the back. "There ain't nuthin' I wouldn't do for my best friend."

"Hey, can we swing by Camp Henderson on the way home? You know, poke in on Sergeant Carter and the boys for old times' sake?"

"Go-oll-ly, that sure is a fine idear, Duke. You okay with that, Lou Ann?" Gomer turned to his wife questioningly.

She smiled and straightened his tie lovingly. "Of course I am! After all, how many times do you boys get leave on Christmas?"

Vincent coughed and started to cry, softly at first. Then it increasingly got louder.

"Uh-oh," Gomer murmured. "What's wrong?"

"Vinny needs a diaper change, is all." Lou Ann took him back and gestured to the large bag on her shoulder. "I've learned to always leave the apartment prepared."

"We cain wait, Lou Ann. You go ahead an' change Vincent's diaper." Gomer gently shooed her in the direction of the bathrooms.

"I'll be right back." She gave him a quick kiss in parting before whisking the baby away to a changing table.

"Shazaam," he murmured, his voice dangerously close to breaking.

Duke patted his friend's shoulder. "That's some family you got there."

"They…they're wonderful." Gomer whispered.

"Oh, brother. A couple of the President's lackeys."

The two Marines turned to see a man standing behind them on the terminal, scowling at them ferociously.

"Scuse me, sir. Was you talkin' to us?" Gomer asked politely.

The man grunted. "You could say so. What are you two doing here? Taking enough time out for the holidays to stuff yourselves full of egg nogg before returning to that senseless killing you call war?"

Duke glowered in outrage. "Now, look here…" He took a menacing step forward.

Gomer held him back. "Please, Duke. It ain't gonna do us no good if we lose our tempers." He turned back to the man. "I'm real sorry you feel that way, sir. We's jus' doin' our jobs, is all."

"You call what you're doing an honest living?" The man laughed contemptuously. "You've caused all of us nothing but trouble! You didn't have to go, no sir! This war is a moral travesty! I respect the boy who burns his draft card."

"And those boys are no better than yellow-bellied cowards!" Duke's eyes flashed angrily.

"Now, Duke…" Gomer warned. He turned back to the man again. "That's your opinion, sir, an' you's entitled to it. But you see, we warn't drafted. We both enlisted in the Marine Corps long before we ever got deployed to Vietnaam."

"Enlisted, eh? You're even worse than I thought. A couple of belligerents!"

"Well, I'm real sorry, sir. All I cain do is say I'm sorry you feel that way." Gomer shrugged. "We jus' see this thing dif'rent, I guess." He slowly smiled and waved tentatively. "Merry Christmas, sir."

"Huh!" The man turned on his heel and stormed away.

"Boy, the nerve of that guy!" Duke growled.

"It's Christmas time, Duke." Gomer said softly. "I'm jus' happy to be alive an' well an' home with my family." He turned to his friend. "I got so much to be happy for. The least I cain do is wish good will to each an ever' fellow man. Regardless of how he feels 'bout me an' this silly war."

"You're right, Gome." Duke smiled. "Life _is _pretty darn good right now!"


	23. All I Want for Christmas

**Chapter 23**

_All I want for Christmas_

_"Merry Christmas to you," _Sergeant Carter sang in his flat, off-key voice, trying to imitate the tune of 'Happy Birthday.' _"Merry Christmas to you. Merry Christmas everybody…Merry Christmas to you!"_

"That's it." Bunny stood and confiscated her husband's glass. "No more beers for you tonight!"

The Carters were at Gomer and Lou Ann's apartment, which was almost filled to bursting with partygoers. The word had quickly spread of the two men's homecoming, and a huge bash had been planned for their return home. Lou Ann's father and the Carters were there, naturally, along with Corporal Boyle, Lester and Frankie along with the rest of Carter's platoon, and several special guests who had flown in from Mayberry for the celebration. Grandma and Grandpa Pyle were there, along with Andy and Opie Taylor, Aunt Bee, Barney Fife, and, of course, Cousin Goober.

Gomer had been delighted to see all of his old friends. "Hey, Andy!" He'd cried in greeting, heartily shaking his friend's hand. "What're you all doin' here? I thought you'd be back in Mayberry for the holidays!"

"Hey, Gomer! We can spend Christmas in Mayberry any old time! We missed you, so when we all heard about you comin' home for Christmas, we figured we'd fly out an' spend it with you."

"Well, ain't that wonderful?" Gomer replied in awe. He turned to the person standing next to Andy and his eyes widened in disbelief. "Opie? Well, look at you! You've really grown since I last saw you in March!"

He turned and gestured for Duke to join him. "Andy, Opie, you remember Duke. You all met at my weddin'. He was my best man…"

As soon as Lou Ann was through the door, Vincent in tow, the baby's great-grandparents swooped down on him like hawks. They plucked him out of his mother's arms and carried him away, exclaiming over him with admiration. Lou Ann shrugged and slowly picked her way to the kitchen to pick up her party dishes.

"Hey, Cousin!" Goober had exclaimed, wrapping Gomer in a bear hug. He stepped back and held him at arm's length. "You look good. They treatin' you nice over in Vietnaam?"

"Well…" Gomer shrugged.

"Good, good! Say, when you thinkin' of comin' home, anyway? That war look like it'll wrap up anytime soon?"

Gomer looked pained just to think of it. "Not exactly…"

"Well, there's always next year." Goober laughed.

"How's the fillin' station back home?" Gomer asked, eager to change the topic of conversation.

"It's goin' real nice. We do miss you, though. You really got to be one darn good mechanic." Goober nodded at his cousin knowingly. "Say, you been gettin' any idears about comin' home an' goin' into the business with me?"

"I cain't right now." Gomer shook his head. "I signed up for another hitch in the Marines last June."

"Well, when it's up, give me a call." Goober smiled. "Hey, I got a funny feelin' somethin' on the carburetor ain't right on that rental care when we came over here. Wanna step out for a second an' take a look under the hood with me?"

Gomer's eyes lit up. "Why, sure, Cousin! I'd be glad to!"

They snuck out the door, softly closing it behind them. They weren't even missed at the party, though. Carter and his men were laughing it up at one of Barney's heroic (and slightly exaggerated) stories about laying down the law in Mayberry. Aunt Bee and Bunny were deep in conversation about casserole recipes. Duke and Boyle stood nearby, swapping remembrances of NCO training school. Grandma and Grandpa Pyle were playing with the baby while Andy stood by admiring him. The only person who didn't seem to be having a good time was Lou Ann. She sat on the couch eating chips by herself, staring at nothing in particular out of utter boredom.

Mr. Poovie roared with laughter from where he was standing and turned to catch sight of his daughter. He beckoned with his hand. "Come here, darlin'! This Barney feller's a real riot!"

Lou Ann feigned a smile and shook her head. "No thanks, Daddy. I ain't really in the mood."

Poovie shrugged and turned back to the group.

Opie sat down on the couch next to Lou Ann, a worried frown on his face. "Somethin' wrong, Miss Lou Ann?"

She smiled gently. "Not really. I'm jus' bein' selfish, I guess."

"Selfish, Miss Lou Ann?"

"Yes," Lou Ann sighed. "Not to be mean or anythin'. But I actually kinda wish this party would be breakin' up soon."

"Is that all? Then I must be selfish, too!" Opie grinned. "I always think parties are pretty dull myself."

"Oh, I don't think you'll think that way for long." Lou Ann patted his hand. "How old are you anyway, Opie?"

"Fourteen."

"My, you're gettin' old so fast!" She exclaimed.

"That's what ever'one says." Opie shrugged. "I don't see the big deal."

"Oh, but you will. Jus' look at how much taller you've gotten. Actually, you're creepin' up on your daddy, even." Lou Ann gestured to Andy standing across the room.

"Hey, that's right." Opie smiled. "I never thought of it that way before."

"See?" Lou Ann smiled. "Tell me, Opie. What is it that you want for Christmas?"

"I've got a pretty long list. You probably don't have the time to listen, though."

"Go on ahead," Lou Ann relaxed against the pillows and picked up another chip. "I've got all the time in the world."

-

The Pyle cousins laughed companionably as they stepped back into the apartment a while later. Gomer carried Goober's jacket while buttoning back up his khaki shirt. They'd taken them off to work on the car and the clothes they wore underneath were grimy and oil-stained as a result.

"Well, it turned out all that carburetor needed was tightenin' a few screws. It was a good thing we rewired that engine, too. Now she ought to run real smooth for you." Gomer smiled.

"Yeah, I oughta charge the guy when I take her back to the rental dealership." Goober laughed and clapped his cousin on the back.

Lou Ann and Opie were still chatting on the couch. They hadn't even noticed the two were gone, or that they'd just come back. They had had a very nice conversation. Lou Ann was delighted to get to know Opie better, who could tell as many tales as her husband. In fact, he had just finished telling her about the time Gomer had went to retrieve his baseball from a haunted house.

"You want to spend time with Gomer, don't you?" Opie asked out of the blue.

"Well, actually…yes." Lou Ann sighed. "But he's been busy." She turned back to the teenager. "Not that I haven't enjoyed talkin' with you, Opie."

The young man nodded. "I know. But I've got an idea of how you could do that."

"How?"

"Hang on an' I'll be right back!" Opie jumped off the couch and disappeared into the party throng.

Gomer turned and caught sight of Lou Ann sitting by herself. His heart automatically went out to her, as it always did when he realized she wasn't happy. He slowly started making his way toward the couch. But before he could reach her, Aunt Bee stepped in his path, stopping him in his tracks.

"Gomer, let me look at you! You're all dirty! Were you an' Goober out workin' on cars again? But you're so thin! What've they been feedin' you over in Vietnaam, scraps?" Still talking, Aunt Bee whisked a reluctant Gomer away to a far corner of the room.

At that moment, Opie returned with a radio in hand. "All right, ever'one! Let's see some dancin'!" He cried, switching it on.

Carter jumped as he heard the music. He grabbed Barney by the arm and was soon leaping with him all over the floor. Barney had a horrified expression on his face as he desperately tried to break free. Andy offered Bunny his hand and led her onto the floor. Grandma Pyle graciously accepted Duke's offer and slowly began dancing with him. Without thinking, Aunt Bee pulled Gomer out onto the floor and began dancing with him. Lou Ann was the only woman not up dancing.

Opie shook his head. How could his plan have failed? "I'm sorry, Miss Lou Ann. Would you like to dance with me?"

"Thank you, Opie. I'd be delighted." She stood and let Opie lead her onto a spot on the floor.

Gomer smiled as he spun and caught sight of Lou Ann. He tried to catch her attention, but to no avail. There was no stopping Aunt Bee as she twirled him about unsteadily.

Lou Ann sighed and decided to enjoy the rest of her dance with Opie. It was no use. She'd have to wait until everyone had left before she could spend some time with her husband.

-

_"Should all acquaintance be forgot…" _Carter roared as he stumbled toward the door on Bunny's arm.

"Oh, be quiet!" Bunny grumbled, snatching the car keys out of his hand. "I'm driving home tonight."

"No, I drive!" Carter exclaimed in dismay.

"Stuff it, Vince! I've had enough of your antics for one night! If I so much as hear another peep outta you…" The door slammed behind them.

"Oh, my goodness!" Lou Ann sighed and picked up the empty snack bowls.

Mr. Poovie groaned as Vincent erupted in tears. "Baby's cryin'."

"Well, no wonder. It's long past his bedtime." Lou Ann glanced at the clock and closed her eyes tiredly. "Hold on a minute an' I'll get him bedded down."

"I'll get the little feller put to bed, Lou Ann." Gomer stood and gently took the baby from his father-in-law. "It ain't that much trouble. Besides, I am his daddy an' all."

"All right. His pajamas are on top of the bureau closest to the door." Lou Ann dumped the dishes in the sink and turned the water on. She looked into the living room to see her father draw the curtains in preparation for bed.

Duke was carrying his portmanteau back to the guest room. He paused in the doorway to the kitchen alcove. "Hey. I just want to thank you again for letting me stay here."

Lou Ann managed a tired smile. "It ain't a problem at all, Duke. We're glad to have you. I jus' hope you don't mind the décor, though."

Duke opened the door and turned on the light switch. Alphabet wallpaper and soft, bright greens, yellows and blues greeted him. He set his bag down on the rollaway cot and grinned. "Oh, yeah. I don't mind setting up in Mother Gooseland for a week."

"Have a nice stay." Lou Ann squeezed his arm before returning to her dishes.

Later, after she'd finished in the kitchen, Lou Ann made her way back to the bedroom. She paused when she heard her husband's deep baritone singing softly in their room. She opened the door a crack and peeked inside.

Gomer was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner, gently rocking his baby son in his arms. He was softly singing a lullaby to put Vincent to sleep:

_"Dearest one, do you remember_

_When we last did meet?_

_When you told me how you loved me,_

_Keeling at my feet?_

_Oh, how proud you stood before me_

_In your suit of gray,_

_When you vowed from me and country_

_Ne'er to go astray._

_Weeping sad and lonely,_

_Sighs and tears how vain!_

_When this cruel war is over_

_Pray that we meet again."_

Lou Ann entered the room and quietly made her way over to them. Gomer looked up and smiled. "Hey, Lou Ann." He whispered.

"Is he asleep?" She laid a hand on his shoulder and peered down at the baby's peaceful face.

"I think so." Gomer slowly stood and set him down in his crib. "Cain you believe that's really our baby boy?"

Lou Ann nodded. "I think it's a miracle ever' day I share with him." She looked up and kissed his face. "Thank you for makin' me a mommy."

"Thank you for makin' me a daddy." Gomer's arms encircled her waist. They stood there for a few minutes, silently admiring their son.

Lou Ann reached up and tried to wipe away an oil spot on her husband's cheek. "You'd better go take your shower."

"I guess I'd better." Gomer nodded and kissed the top of her head before making off for the bathroom. Lou Ann smiled at his retreating back before turning to get ready for bed.

Twenty minutes later, Lou Ann was sitting before her mirror, brushing her hair. She turned as she heard her husband reenter the room. "Why, Gomer!" Her eyes lit up in surprise.

Gomer smiled bashfully at the floor. "Goll-ly, I'm sorry, Lou Ann. I wasn't thinkin'. I guess it's jus' a habit now. This is how all us fellers sleep in Vietnaam."

"It really must be as hot as you say it is for you all to sleep like that." She stared at Gomer. She'd never seen him in such an ensemble before. Instead of his usual boxer shorts, he was wearing his heavy combat pants. The belt was gone, so they sagged down comfortably. Most shocking was the fact that he wore no shirt at all. In the moonlight, Lou Ann could see his dogtags gleaming from where they proudly hung around his neck.

"It sure is." The subject deeply embarrassed Gomer, and he hastily turned to make his way for the bathroom. "I'll go put on a shirt now if you'd like."

"No, don't." Lou Ann quickly stopped him. She blushed and stared a hole in the ground. "You look nice," she finally mumbled.

"Really? Gomer smiled and gently held her hands. "You really think so? It don't bother you none?"

"It don't bother me if it don't bother you." She replied playfully.

"Well, it don't bother me as long as it don't bother you." Gomer laughed softly.

Lou Ann finally met his gaze, relaxing as she let her arms encircle his neck. "I think…you look very handsome." She murmured, gently kissing his lips.

When a few moments passed and it looked like the kiss would go on longer, she pensively pulled back.

"What's the matter, Lou Ann? Have I got bad breath or somethin'?" Gomer frowned and breathed on his hand in concern.

"No, no. Your breath's lovely, darlin'. I jus' wanna make sure of somethin'."

"What's that?"

"Are we really alone now?"

"Is that all?" Gomer smiled. "Well, as far as I cain tell, we are. Ever'one's gone home 'cept for your daddy, an' Duke, an' Vincent, but I think they's all asleep by now. But they might not if they got indigestion or they jus' cain't sleep an' have to keep gettin' up. You ever had that happen to you? The night jus' keeps goin' an' goin', an' you never do get to sleep. But I don't think they will bother us if they are. They might get up an' go to the kitchen to get a drink of water, but that's all."

Lou Ann giggled. She could listen to Gomer talk for hours. "Oh, Gomer," she sighed happily. "We're finally alone…"

Reassured, she resumed the kiss from where she'd left off. Gomer kissed her back for another minute before trying to get her to stop. "Lou Ann, cain't we jus' go to bed an' talk a while? I feel kinda funny jus' standin' here like this."

"Of course, if that's what you wanna do." Lou Ann smiled.

"Well, I only wanna do it if you want to."

"Then let's do it. We got so much to talk about!" Lou Ann led Gomer over to the bed, where they sat down.

She sighed happily and sat close to him. "I'm sorry, Gomer, I jus' cain't believe you're really here. I've read your letters for so long, an' now I finally get to see you, an' hear you, an' it's wonderful. I've really missed you."

Gomer smiled. "I've missed bein' here, too. I really wisht I could have been here with you an' Vincent all this time. I feel like I've been cut off from ever'thing here the whole time I was away. It's funny, an' I don't like it."

"You jus' do what you gotta do to come home safe to me, an' don't worry about us. We cain take care of ourselves." Lou Ann smiled and kissed him again.

During this time, Vincent had awoken from his slumber. He sat up, pulling himself to his feet with the aid of the bars on his crib. He leaned over the top of the bars and smiled at his parents. "Ma-Ma!" He cried gleefully.

They broke off and Lou Ann sighed in disappointment. "Jus' when we thought we could talk." She murmured.

They turned to the crib and inched away from each other, smiling at their son. "Hey, Vinny," Lou Ann cooed. "What you doin' up when you should be asleep?"

"Ma-Ma," He replied, reaching out to her with his chubby little arms.

"Aww," she gave her husband an apologetic look before getting up and lifting Vincent out of his crib. "You know you're cute, don't you?" She scolded the baby playfully. "You got Mommy wrapped around your adorable little finger." She tickled his stomach and he laughed in reply.

"Come on, let's go see Daddy." She set him down on the bed and pointed to Gomer. "Go on, go see Daddy."

But instead of going to Gomer, Vincent turned around and crawled to the end of the bed. Lou Ann hurried to block his path and keep him from falling off. He pointed to the bureau littered with the framed photographs of his father. "Da-Da!"

Lou Ann gulped nervously. "Yes, those are pitchers of Daddy. But Daddy's over here." She picked him up and plopped him down in Gomer's lap. "This is Daddy."

"Hey, Vincent. Don't you remember me? I'm your Daddy." He pushed his hair out of his eyes and propped the baby up on his knee.

"Da-Da," Vincent still turned and reached out for the bureau again.

"Oh…" Lou Ann clasped her hands together in despair. She could hardly stand the heartbroken look Gomer gave her with his soulful brown eyes.

"He don't know who I am." Gomer murmured in quiet horror. "My own son don't know who his daddy is."

Lou Ann sat down behind him and hugged his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, darlin'." She whispered so quietly that he didn't even hear it as he sadly played with the baby in his lap.

-

"Somethin' wrong, baby?" Mr. Poovie looked uncertainly at his daughter as she poured his bran cereal into a bowl for breakfast the next morning.

Lou Ann sighed. "Oh, not really, I guess." She feigned a smile as she poured him a cup of fat-free milk for the cereal. "Don't you worry about it, Daddy. Ever'thing's all right."

Poovie smiled at her knowingly. "Come now, Lou Ann. You don't really think you cain fool old dad, cain you? Now, out with it."

Lou Ann laughed. "Oh, all right." She set down his bowl in front of him and took the seat beside him.

"Good morning," Duke yawned and slowly entered the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What's for breakfast?"

"Mornin', Duke." Lou Ann pointed to the pot on the corner of the counter. "There's coffee over there. An' you cain help yourself to whatever's in that cupboard on the left."

"Thanks." He smiled and poured himself a cup.

"Sleep well, boy?" Poovie asked, taking a bite of his cereal.

"Oh, great. Like a log. And having the sun wake me up was a heck of a lot better than Sergeant Brooks' foot in my ribcage." Duke smiled, then frowned as he saw the grimace on Lou Ann's father's face. "What's wrong, Mr. Poovie?"

"Yeah, Daddy. Don't you like your cereal?" Lou Ann turned and patted his hand encouragingly.

Poovie swallowed before coughing in disgust. "Tastes like woodchips and sawdust. But it's great for my cholesterol." He smiled at his daughter. "Just what I wanted, baby. Now, what is it that's botherin' you, again?"

"Well, actually…it's about Gomer." Lou Ann sighed sadly.

"Gomer? What about him?" Duke sat down worriedly, his eyes trained on Lou Ann.

"You might as well hear this too, Duke. Maybe you cain help him." Gomer's wife smiled at him and continued. "Well, you know how I show Vinny a pitcher of his daddy ever' day? He's got it in his head now that the pitchers are his daddy an' not Gomer. You should've seen him last night. He was so torn up over it."

"Huh," Poovie grunted. "Kid's showing good judgment already. I'd take a bunch of photographs over that goof as my father any day…Ow!" He cried as Lou Ann glared at him, stomping on his foot wrathfully.

"Now, Daddy! You promised to be nice!" She waggled a finger at him in warning.

Duke shook his head. "Poor Gome. He loves that kid to death. He's probably taking it pretty hard."

"Oh," Lou Ann rolled her eyes. "You don't know the half of it!"

At that moment, Gomer entered the kitchen, the baby in his arms. "Come on, Vincent. You an' Daddy are gonna go eat breakfast. You," he pointed at the baby's stomach, making him laugh. Gomer's brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at his son. "An' Daddy." He pointed to himself in turn.

"That's been goin' on all mornin'." Lou Ann murmured. "He's determined to spend ever' wakin' minute with Vinny till he gets that Gomer's his daddy."

"It ain't nuthin' to be taken lightly, Lou Ann." Gomer kissed the top of her head before sitting down. "Think how terrible it would be, havin' our son go through life without knowin' who I am."

"Yeah, what a shame." Poovie muttered under his breath. Catching Lou Ann's murderous glare, he coughed and smiled at Gomer. "Yes, of course! That would be terrible, son!"

"Now, Gomer. You know that ain't always gonna hold true. When he gets older, why, he'll understand his daddy's a person, not a pitcher." Lou Ann reached across the table and clasped his hand comfortingly.

Gomer looked pained as he sighed sadly. "I know, Lou Ann. But…you know we got to consider ever' option. There's a good chance I could go back to Vietnaam after this leave an'…well…never come back." He whispered.

Lou Ann closed her eyes and gripped his hand even tighter.

"I know you don't like thinkin' about it as much as I do." Gomer's voice shook as he spoke in a low tone. "But…it could happen. An' Vincent will never really know me. Then his daddy will always be a pitcher to him."

"You're right," she murmured. "You're right."

"Ever' moment I spend with Vincent really is precious." Gomer hugged the little boy to him lovingly. "We got to do some serious Dad an' son time while I cain."

"I'll go out to the park with you guys after breakfast." Duke volunteered, smiling.

"Okay." Lou Ann nodded resignedly. As she stood to clear the dishes, she moved over to his side of the table and kneeled beside his seat. She smiled sadly as she watched him shake Vincent's arms and coo to him in open admiration. He looked up at her hand on his arm and returned her gaze. "Have fun," she murmured softly.

-

Half an hour later, Gomer was holding on to Vincent as he slowly pushed him back and forth on the swing. It was no easy task, either. Vincent, ever so curious of his new surroundings, kept trying to wriggle out of his father's grasp to explore.

Duke stood on the other side of the swing, helping Gomer hold onto the baby. He looked up to see a couple of young ladies chatting by the sandbox. His eyes lit up happily. "Uh, Gome…why don't we take Vincent over to play in the sandbox, huh?"

Gomer followed his gaze and shook his head knowingly. "All right, Duke. If you say so."

His friend hurried over without waiting for him. Gomer picked Vincent up off the swing. He blew air on the baby's stomach, making him laugh.

"He never learns, Vincent." Gomer nodded to Duke. "I done told him an' told him again that he cain't be too careful, gallivantin' around the way he does with all them girls. Your daddy never was like that. When Daddy met your momer, he knew she was the girl for him. But Duke's Daddy's best friend. He's always been there when Daddy needed him. He's been a real true friend. An' I'm real grateful to him. Grateful, grateful, grateful!"

"Ga!" Vincent cried indignantly, his little fingers latching onto Gomer's nose.

"No, Daddy." Gomer replied. "Cain you say Daddy?"

"Ba moo!" The baby exclaimed.

"Daddy…Daddy," Gomer murmured, slowly making his way over to the sandbox. "Cain you let go of Daddy's nose now? Daddy cain't breathe."

"Corporal Duke Slater at your beck and call, my lady." Duke smiled at one of the women.

"Thanks, I'll remember that." The woman rolled her eyes and turned back to her friend. "Anyway, as I was saying about Donna's cooking…"

"Cooking? You like cooking?" Duke interrupted hopefully. He cocked his head invitingly as the woman turned back around to him. "What a coincidence, because I happen to love cooking."

"Oh, really?" She asked flatly, scowling at Duke.

He didn't take the hint and leaned closer. "Hey, how about I take you out tonight and show you the best cooking in town?"

The woman smiled. "No."

Duke frowned. "Why not?"

"Because my husband wouldn't like it." She turned and waved to her friend. "See you later, Cheryl." She picked up a whistle hanging around her neck and blew it. "All right, kids! Playtime's over!"

Duke's eyes widened in disbelief as seven kids bounded up to her eagerly. "Let's go." She said, giving Duke a triumphant glance as they walked away.

"Hey, Duke." Gomer appeared at his friend's elbow, finally catching up to him.

"Gome, did you see that?" Duke pointed shakily. "I think I just found the Von Trapp children!"

"Really? I always wanted to meet them." Gomer looked earnestly in the direction Duke had pointed.

Meanwhile, Slater had turned back to the other woman still standing there. "So, your name is Cheryl?"

Cheryl frowned at him. "Listen, playboy. I don't play second banana!" She caught sight of Vincent looking at her over his father's shoulder and smiled. "Oh, he's so cute!"

Gomer turned around as she came up to him. "Hey there, ma'am. You wanna hold Vincent a bit?"

"Oh, I'd love to!" She exclaimed, taking him in her arms. "So his name is Vincent? How old is he?"

"Nine months, one day, an' ten hours." Gomer smiled proudly. "I ain't too sure about the minutes, though."

"He's an adorable little baby!" She cried.

"If you tickle him right there, he laughs real cute-like." Gomer poked the baby's stomach, making him squirm happily.

"Thanks." She looked up at him and smiled. "You're the father, right?"

"Well, yeah." Gomer looked at the ground bashfully.

"I can tell. He looks just like you." Cheryl laughed. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be a single parent, would you?"

"No, ma'am, I ain't. My wife, she's at home doin' the laundry. I'm sure she'd like to meet you, though. Lou Ann jus' loves it when people come by to see the baby."

"What a shame." Cheryl looked down and tickled the baby.

Duke's eyes widened in surprise. "That kid's a babe magnet," he whispered slowly. Nodding determinedly, he strode back up to the pair.

"Hey, Vincent. Come here to Uncle Duke," he cooed, taking the infant from Cheryl.

She looked at him disgustedly. "Don't tell me he's related to you."

"No, I'm the father's best friend." He smiled.

"Oh." She turned back to Gomer. "Well, I have to get going. It was nice talking to you, uh…"

"Pyle. Gomer Pyle." He told her helpfully.

"It was nice talking to you, Gomer Pyle. I hope we meet again."

As she walked off, Gomer smiled and waved. "Bye, ma'am!" He turned back to his friend. "If you don't mind, Duke, I think Vincent an' I will play in the sandbox a bit now."

Duke sighed. "Oh, all right. But when we go to the supermarket, I get to hold him!"

-

"See Daddy? Wave to Daddy." Duke murmured, holding Vincent up and waving his tiny, chubby arm at the figure all the way on the other side of the field.

From where he was standing a hundred feet away, Gomer waved and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Duke! Has he said it yet?"

"Soo ah!" The baby cried in Duke's arms.

Duke lowered the baby off of his shoulders and sighed. "It's no use, Gome. We've been at this twenty minutes. I don't think he's gonna say it."

"Who's going to say what?" A familiar voice asked behind him.

Duke jumped and turned around. "Sergeant Carter! What are doing here?"

"I decided to take some of the leave I had piled up and spend some time with you guys. After all, it isn't very often you get to come home for Christmas."

Duke smiled. "You can't fool me, Sarge. I know you can't stand Gomer. You hardly kept your sanity back when we were in your platoon."

"Don't remind me." Carter grumbled. "Oh, all right. Is it too much to ask if I could see my godson?"

"Why, sure, Sarge! Here," He handed Vincent over to Carter.

"Hey, buddy! It's your old pal Vince! I'm your godfather." He cooed to the baby.

"Sarge, I never knew you were such a family guy." Duke smiled in mild surprise.

"Are you kidding? Family's my middle name." Carter laughed.

"Hey, Sergeant!" Gomer cried, running up to them.

Carter rolled his eyes. "Hello, Pyle."

"What you doin' away from the base?" Gomer smiled.

"I took my leave a little early to, uh…to come down and see if you two were all right." Carter laughed nervously.

Duke frowned. "But Sarge, I thought you said…"

"Shut up, Slater." Carter murmured threateningly.

"My, my! That was real thoughtful, Sergeant! But you always was, anyway. Thoughtful, thoughtful, thoughtful! You know I really missed you, Sergeant. You're so much nicer than Sergeant Brooks. An' that's all because you're such a nice, warm, carin',"

"That's nice, Pyle. So…"

"Lovin', sweet, fatherly, modest, homey…"

Sergeant Carter looked like he was going to be sick. Stifling a yell, he clapped his hand over Gomer's mouth. "That's enough, Pyle!"

After a minute of standing there like that, evoking quizzical looks from the other park goers, Carter slowly took his hand off of Pyle's mouth.

"…thoughtful person." Gomer finished.

"What's your problem, Pyle?! Don't you ever know when to stop?!" Carter cried. "You never learn! Never! I'm glad your someone else's problem and not mine! You're enough to drive any man crazy! You hear me?! CRAZY!"

Gomer smiled. "Sergeant, you yellin' at me's like music to my ears. It's jus' like old times again."

Carter's eyes bulged. He strained to control his temper, prancing in place. He was about to explode when a yawn from Vincent reminded him of the baby in his arms.

"What…" He turned to the infant and stopped, his frown disappearing as he looked into the baby's wide brown eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, the little guy _was _pretty cute. "Think about it, Pyle." He murmured lowly. "This was probably how sweet and adorable you were before you turned into," he turned back to face the Marine, his scowl back in place, "a stupid, clumsy, nincompoopish, lame-brained, knuckleheaded moron!"

Vincent slapped the stripes on Carter's sleeve with his tiny palm. "Surg," he babbled gleefully.

"Look at that. He called me Sarge." Carter smiled down at the baby in amazement. "Thank goodness he's taking after Lou Ann. Not a year old yet and he's already smarter than his old man." He glanced up at Gomer and Duke questioningly. "Say, what were you two goofs doing when I walked up here, anyway? It looked like you two were playing catch a hundred feet apart from each other."

"Well, you see, that was the problem, Sarge." Duke replied tentatively. "Vincent here knows who you are, and who his mother is, and who his grandparents are. But…he doesn't know who Gomer is."

"What? Of all the stupid…"

"It's true, Sergeant." Gomer murmured quietly. "We're tryin' to get him to say it, but he ain't been cooperatin' real well."

"That's one of the silliest things I ever heard! This smart little guy knows who his father is, of all people!" Carter held up the baby and pointed at Gomer demonstratively. "There's your daddy. See your daddy? That's Daddy."

"Caw lal." Vincent laughed happily.

"You see? That was baby talk for daddy." Carter smiled triumphantly.

"Um, Sergeant? He already knows how to say 'da-da.'" Gomer kicked a stone on the ground uncomfortably.

"How do you know if he's never called you that? Huh?"

"He don't call me daddy. He calls the pitchers Lou Ann has of me daddy."

"You see, Sarge? Vincent here thinks his father's a photograph. That's the problem." Duke added quietly.

"Oh." Sergeant Carter looked from Duke to Gomer, then back to the baby in his arms. "Well, no wonder! After all, he's not even a year old! Give the kid a break!"

"You gotta help me, Sergeant." Gomer looked at him pleadingly. "If there's one thing I want, more'n anythin' else in the world, it's for my son to know who I am 'fore I leave. I might not get another chance." He walked up to the baby and tickled his stomach. "Hey, it's Daddy. Cain you say hey to Daddy?"

"Ba goo!" The baby cried, grabbing on to Gomer's nose once again.

Gomer sighed and took the boy up in his arms. "It's okay, Vincent." He murmured, glancing worriedly at Duke and Sergeant Carter. What if he never figured it out?

-

_"Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling yoo-hoo…_

_And now it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you._

_Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up, let's go…" _Mr. Poovie and Opie sang at the top of their voices as they wrapped Christmas presents on the floor.

Lou Ann sighed sadly. "I don't think I'll ever get used to not havin' snow at Christmastime."

"When we left Mayberry couple days ago, the snow was three inches thick." Grandpa Pyle replied from the couch.

"Otis, I'm sure you're mistaken. The weatherman said it was four an' a half at noon 'fore we left!" Grandma Pyle contested gently.

"That man what broadcasts from Charlotte all fancy-like? He don't know a hailstone from a raindrop!" Grandpa Pyle scoffed in disgust.

"That's what he said, though. You know they got counters down there to measure how deep the snow is?"

"I went an' walked through it to fix a pipe on the septic tank an' I know enough about snow to know it was three inches!"

"Gran'ma, Gran'pa, please!" Lou Ann held up a hand to silence them. "It don't really matter how deep the snow is back home. All I'm sad about is the fact that North Caroliner has snow an' we don't!"

"I know just how you're feeling, hon. I grew up in Omaha." Bunny nodded sagely from her seat in the corner. "But after ten years or so, you get used to it." She held up a rectangular orange fabric with geometric shapes stitched inside. "This is what I'm giving Vince. What do you think?"

Lou Ann smiled. "Actually, it's a really nice…well, it's really nice."

"Isn't it great? I made it for him in my sewing class. He's always complaining about not having enough ties to wear when he's out of uniform."

"Oh, is that what it is? Then I'm sure he'll love it, Bunny. Specially since you made it jus' for him an' all. That was real thoughtful."

"Thanks." Bunny folded it and placed it in her thin cardboard box before beginning to wrap it.

Andy groaned and shifted his position on the floor before turning to Barney, who was sitting next to him and struggling to neatly wrap a present at the coffee table. "Hey, Barne. Do you need any help?"

"Help? Hah!" Barney exclaimed, stretching a corner of the wrapping paper so far that it tore. "Andy, do I look like someone who needs help?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, you do."

"Andy, I think I can handle something as simple as wrapping a Christmas present." He taped up one end and held it up triumphantly, only to grimace at the lopsided job. He turned to his boss. "Well, don't just sit there! Help me out here!"

Bored, Lou Ann took out her knitting and went to work on it. Her scarlet and gold balls of yarn bounced to the floor.

"I do some knittin' myself. What you makin' there, girl?" Aunt Bee asked from her seat on the couch.

"Vinny's Christmas present. An' no, I ain't tellin' you what it is. You'll jus' have to find out on Christmas." She smiled, a maternal glow to her features as she clacked away.

"What do you plan on giving Gomer, Lou Ann?" Bunny asked in mild interest.

"I don't know." She sighed sadly. "After all, I haven't had much time to think about it since findin' out about him comin' home. Nuthin' seems good enough."

"That's all right, Lou Ann. I'm sure he'll love whatever you give him."

"No. It has to be perfect. I want Gomer to have a special Christmas. After all, it may be his last," she murmured quietly.

"Now, honey. Don't think that way." Bunny smiled gently.

"You know it's true! The war don't look like it's gonna end any time soon. What if he leaves an'…an'…never comes back?" She sniffed, a lone tear rolling down her cheek.

"Cheer up, Lou Ann. Give us your best brave face." Goober sat down next to her and lightly chucked her under the chin. "Make Gomer proud."

"I know he's proud. He's proud an'…an'…so much braver than me! He's such a sweet, brave Marine. I love him so!" She cried despondently.

"There, there, Cousin Lou Ann. He's all right. He's made it this far, ain't he?" Goober patted her back comfortingly.

"I know. An' I know I should be grateful he's lasted as long as he has…an' he was there for me when the baby was born…an' that he's actually home for Christmas…" She smiled at Goober. "I guess I jus' kinda wish I was able to look after an' take care of him when he's over in Vietnaam."

Goober shrugged. "Who says you ain't?"

"Actually, I think you're right." Lou Ann wiped her eyes and laughed. "I'm jus' bein' silly. Speakin' of bein' over in Vietnaam…" She stood and made her way back to the bedroom. "Wait till I show you this pitcher he sent me of him an' Duke over there."

She grabbed the photograph off of the bureau and hastily returned to the sitting room, showing it proudly.

"Hey, that's purdy neat. I ain't never seed him with his war gear on. It's jus' like what they show in the movies." Goober laughed and handed it to Barney and Andy to look at.

Lou Ann smiled at it lovingly. "Ain't he handsome, though?"

"What is it you want for Christmas, Miss Lou Ann?" Opie inquired from his seat on the floor.

Lou Ann sighed longingly. "Oh, not much, Opie. Thank you for askin'. But…what I really want, though," she nodded to the picture being passed around, "is _him."_


	24. The Perfect Gift

**Chapter 24**

_The Perfect Gift_

Duke jiggled Vincent in his arms playfully, making the baby laugh. "Aww." He smiled down at the infant's downy black head. "He sure is easily amused, Gome. But he's so cute!"

"Uh-huh," Gomer murmured, studying the shelves in front of him. Lou Ann had given him a list of food items to pick up for Christmas dinner when he and Duke had left the house that morning. Some of the items were proving hard to find. "Sugar-free pie fillin'?" He muttered, scanning the shelves. "My daddy-in-law sure has a strange appetite. I didn't even think there was such a thing as sugar-free pie fillin'."

He picked a can off of the shelf and turned it to look at the label. "Shazaam, I'm gonna have to look at each an' ever' one of these to see if they got sugar or not. Cain you hang on to Vincent for a minute, Duke? Lou Ann says he's real bad about attention, an' I'm gonna have to need to look at all of these here cans real careful-like."

"Huh? Yeah, sure, Gome." At that moment, a girl farther down the aisle attracted his attention. Not that that didn't happen quite often for Duke, but…there was something different about this girl. She wasn't like the others he'd seen. One look at her and he knew he was looking at a member of the counterculture. She was of medium height and had long, brown hair. She wore the bright, colorful clothing that had become a trend in her group over the past decade. A trademark peace sign medallion hung from a chain around her neck. Even at a distance, Duke could see her pretty face as she poured over soup can labels.

"I'll be right back." Duke murmured absently to Gomer, slowly making his way toward her. Vincent squealed and wiggled around in his arms. "Lou Ann wasn't kidding!" He grunted, frowning at the baby. "You sure do thrive on the limelight!"

Vincent laughed and smiled up at Duke, his wide brown eyes sparkling.

"Why do you got to be so cute?" He sighed. "Here I am trying to meet this amazing girl and I'm stuck playing Mary Poppins." He stopped and thought back to the park. What was he complaining about? This kid was a babe magnet!

He smiled and turned back to Gomer, slowly moving backward toward the girl. He moved the baby up on his shoulder, facing down the aisle. "All right, Vincent," he murmured quietly. "Beam…her…in."

The infant cried out happily, reaching out to the lone human in his line of vision.

"Aww," a soft, feminine voice sounded from behind. "Hey there, little guy."

_Yes, _Duke mouthed silently. Grinning, he turned around. "Uh, hi."

"Oh, sorry, man." The girl smiled apologetically. "I was just thinking that this has to be the cutest baby I've ever seen."

"You wanna hold him?" Duke asked graciously.

"Can I?" She took him and bounced him gently.

"He just loves attention. His name's Vincent." Duke added hastily.

"He's adorable! Is he yours?" She looked up at him questioningly.

"No, he belongs to my friend over there." Duke nodded at Gomer. "I'm, uh, the designated proxy." He smiled down at the baby. "I think he likes you."

"He does?" She held him up and laughed. "Well, Vincent, I think you're very, very cute."

Duke leaned closer. "Vincent thinks you're very, very pretty."

The girl smiled. "I think Vincent's been hanging around too many love-starved bachelor corporals."

Duke winced. "Ouch. That hurt."

"Hey, Duke? I found that pie fillin'. Now we got to go all the way down to the deli. I saw that on the way in. It's right in between the cash register an' the men's restroom…" Gomer pushed the cart up to his friend. He stopped and waved when he saw the other girl. "Hey there."

"Now, are you the father?" She smiled and pointed at the new arrival.

"Uh-huh," Gomer extended his hand. "My name's Gomer. Gomer Pyle."

"Morgan Valentine," She replied, shaking his hand. "Hey, your accent sounds pretty sick. You from the south, by any chance?"

"I sure am." Gomer grinned.

"Right on! I grew up in the south. This place in North Carolina, actually. Your accent reminded me of it." She shook her head, thinking about it.

"North Caroliner? Shazaam! Would you know it, that's jus' where I'm from?" Gomer exclaimed happily.

"Really? That's far out!" She laughed.

"Um, excuse me." Duke murmured hastily. "You don't sound like you're from the south."

"I'm not." Morgan replied. "I was born up north. Jane's from Boston and Charles is from New Haven. But his job, like, makes him travel all over the place. So that's how I ended up in North Carolina."

"Well, I'll be!" Gomer laughed. "You wouldn't happen to know about a little town called Mayberry, would you? You see, that's where I'm from."

Morgan thought about it for a minute. "Ye-es, I think I've heard of it." She smiled. "Nice threads, Lance Corporal Pyle."

"You know my rank." Gomer pointed to his sleeve in amazement. "Most people don't know what my rank is, seein' as how the Marines is the only ones what have it anymore."

"I dig, man." She nodded. "My old man, Charles, he's like, a colonel, you know?"

Duke gulped. "Your dad's a _colonel? _In the _Marines?"_

"Yeah, he's like, been all over." She smiled.

"So, uh, Morgan," Duke smiled uneasily. "What brings you to the west coast?"

"Well, I was hangin' out for a while down in Haight-Ashbury up in San Francisco. But Charles, he got word about how Manson iced Sharon Tate and he acted like a square. So I can't hang out there anymore. Then he told me that one of my old friends from school lives down in these parts, so I thought I'd swing by and see her, try to find a new pad, you know. Whatever floats my boat, man." She turned back to Gomer. "Well, I gotta split. Your baby's adorable, Lance Corporal Pyle. Peace out, Corporal." She handed Vincent back to Gomer and nodded to Duke.

"Wait!" Duke stopped her. "Is there, uh, any, uh, chance you'll be eating dinner tonight?"

She smiled. "Yeah, it's a funny thing, you know? I don't like, starve myself or anything. But I've already got a dinner date. Maybe later."

"Bye, ma'am!" Gomer waved Vincent's arm in her direction as she walked away. Duke stood there, mesmerized, as she vanished from sight.

"I've gotta get her number." He murmured determinedly.

"An' Lou Ann's gonna kill us dead when we're late gettin' home from the market. She's already got behind her schedule with all she's got to do before tomorrow, bless her heart. We don't wanna make her mad, Duke. Now, we got to go to the deli an' get…" Gomer slowly walked back toward the cart, carrying Vincent and still talking.

Duke stood stock still in the middle of the aisle, still staring after her. Gomer turned and beckoned with his hand. "Come on, Duke. We got to go now."

Duke shook his head. "Oh, right. Sure, Gome." He turned and collided with a display case full of tomato sauce cans, sending them crashing to the floor.

"Duke, you all right?" Gomer hurried to help his friend pick up the mess. Usually, it was the other way around.

The baby laughed delightedly. "Duke!" He cried.

Duke stopped and stared at the baby. "Did you hear that, Gome? Did you hear that? He called me Duke! He knows my name! He's one intelligent cookie, Gome! He knows who his mother is, and who the Sarge is, and who I am…" His voice trailed off as he saw how crestfallen Gomer looked.

"Ah ba!" The baby wriggled around in Gomer's grasp, trying to find a comfortable way to relax on his shoulder.

"Vincent, it would really make me feel better if you'd call me Daddy." Gomer sighed sadly.

All he got in reply was a contented burp.

-

Later that evening, the Pyle's apartment was once again a flurry of activity. Barney and Mr. Poovie hung garland from the windows. Opie tried to help a flustered Sergeant Carter untangle himself from the lights. Vincent watched, wide-eyed, as Gomer and Goober hung ornaments on the tree. Grandma and Grandpa Pyle were busily stuffing all the wrapped Christmas presents in the closets for tomorrow, smiling secretly as they did so. Andy helped Bunny prepare food for the next day in the kitchen, sharing the small space with Lou Ann, who was busy making cookies. Duke hung a wreath on the door and turned to put up some red ribbons and other decorations around the apartment. Aunt Bee bustled about from place to place, helping with one thing for a moment before moving on to the next.

"Come on, Duke. Wake up a little. It's Christmas!" She cried as she hurried by Slater, throwing tinsel over the mantel.

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Carter exclaimed, moving toward the door. He stumbled over the cord and crashed to the floor.

"Gee, Sergeant, are you all right?" Opie kneeled down to help untangle him from the mess.

"Sergeant Carter! Sergeant Carter, you okay?" Gomer hurried over to Carter and began pulling him up.

"Pyle, let go of me!" Carter exclaimed angrily.

"I'll get it!" Lou Ann called, wiping her hands on her apron as she picked her way to the door. "Who is it?" She asked, peeking through the peephole.

"It's me!" A voice replied.

Lou Ann's eyes lit up in excitement as she threw the door wide open. "Morgan!"

"Lou Ann!" The visitor cried, wrapping her in a hug.

Duke turned and thought he might fall over in surprise. There, standing in the doorway, was the girl he'd met at the supermarket! He pointed shakily. "You…you know Lou Ann?"

"Of course! Morgan an' I was inseparable growin' up in Turtle Creek!" Lou Ann smiled. "Morgan, I ain't heard from you in years! What brings you all this way to California?"

"That hit up by my old pad in San Fran made Charles send me looking for a new place. And well, I haven't heard from you in so long. And I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd come and catch up!" Morgan laughed.

"Morgan! I ain't seed you since you was a leggy teenager! You've grown!" Mr. Poovie came over and hugged Lou Ann's friend. "How've you been?"

"Just groovy." She smiled. "You look good, J. R. Just like you always have!"

"Well," he puffed out pompously. "I do pride myself on my excellent physical condition."

"Morgan," Lou Ann hurried over to Gomer and laid a hand on his arm. "I want you to meet my husband. This is Lance Corporal Gomer Pyle."

Gomer smiled. "Hey, ma'am."

"Gomer and I met at the market today. Man, I didn't know he was your husband! Where have I been?" Morgan started in surprise.

"Ain't you happy?" Lou Ann's face fell.

"Oh, I am. I am." She smiled. "It's just weirdsville, you know? Everyone back home always thought you'd marry Monroe."

"Including me," Poovie muttered wistfully.

"I know." Lou Ann's eyes flashed in irritation at her father. "It wasn't till a few years ago that I realized what a horrible man he was."

Morgan waved a hand. "I knew that all along. I only put up with the spaz because I thought you were, like, into him and all. But Gomer, he's sweet. I like him. He'll be good to you, Lou Ann." Morgan winked at Gomer, who blushed and smiled at his wife.

"Oh, an' you've got to see Vinny, our son!" Lou Ann picked the baby up off of the couch and held him out to Morgan.

"I've already met him, too. No wonder I thought he was so darling. He's yours." She smiled at her friend. "Now I know what's so different about you, Lou Ann. You've got the glow of motherhood."

"Oh, you're jus' sayin' that." Lou Ann smiled modestly. "Where's my manners? I've got so many people to introduce you to!" She handed Vincent to her friend and started moving quickly about the room. "This is Gomer's cousin Goober…an' this is Aunt Bee…an' that's Gran'ma an' Gran'pa Pyle…an' that's Barney Fife…an' that's Andy Taylor…an' that's his son, Opie, over there…an' this is Bunny Carter…an' on the floor is her husband, Sergeant Carter."

"Hi there," Carter smiled up at Morgan from his prone position on the floor.

"An' this is Duke, Gomer's best friend." Lou Ann pointed to Slater, who had dropped all of his bows and candy canes on the floor.

"We've met." Morgan smiled at him in bemusement.

"Y-yeah, we have." He looked down and yanked off the ribbon Opie had pinned to his rear end, his face red with embarrassment.

"How long will you be in town?" Lou Ann asked her friend. "Through the holidays?"

Morgan shrugged. "Long as I want to, you know? I can just hang."

"That's wonderful! Well, you must have dinner with us tonight! I insist! We'd all love to have you, wouldn't we?" Lou Ann turned to the group.

Everyone nodded. "Oh, yeah. We're going out for dinner tonight, seein' as how we're fixin' tomorrow's stuff here," Andy indicated the pots. "We'd be glad to have one more with us." He sniffed and frowned. "Lou Ann, I think your cookies are burnin'."

"Oh, my!" Lou Ann quickly picked her way across the living space and hurried into the kitchen nook.

"Gomer, make sure I get a seat by her," Duke whispered to his friend sternly.

Gomer turned to Slater. "But Duke, there's so many of us. I jus' don't see how…"

"Just do it!"

Gomer shrugged. "All right, Duke. If you say so."

-

A short while later, the party trouped into the Bluebird Café, hungry and excited. After all, it was Christmas Eve, and Los Angeles had picked up a wind that nipped at their noses when they went outside. It really felt like the special evening that it was.

"How many?" The waitress asked at the door.

"Well, let's see…" Gomer stared at the ceiling thoughtfully, counting off people on his fingers. "There's me, Lou Ann, Vincent, Gran'ma an' Gran'pa, Duke, Andy, Opie, Goober, Barney, Miss Bunny, an'…"

"Fifteen." Lou Ann answered after turning around and doing a quick head count.

"Hang on a minute." The waitress turned and called out to one of her coworkers. "Patty! Help me push these tables together! We got a party!"

Before long, everyone was seated at the table. Gomer bustled about, making sure everyone took a certain seat so Morgan would be forced to sit across from Duke. Though a few gave him odd looks, nobody said anything about it. Duke smiled gratefully at his friend. Gomer was loyal to the end. And he _did _still owe Duke for that trip to Cambodia…

Gomer waited until everyone was seated before sitting down himself, pushing in Lou Ann's chair as he plopped down on the seat next to her. He picked up the menu to study it, but looked up as he felt a hand on his arm. He glanced at his wife, who had a worried expression on her face. "What is it, Lou Ann?"

"Well, I didn't want to say anythin' before, but maybe I ought to tell you now." She looked down at her lap. "I noticed that Duke is…infatuated, with Morgan."

"Uh-huh." Gomer nodded in agreement.

"Well, he's your friend, Gomer. Please tell him to be careful. Morgan's a…a free spirit. She always was, even when I knew her. I've never known anythin' to keep her hangin' around in one place for too long. She has to keep movin' around to stay satisfied. I jus' don't want Duke to get hurt."

Gomer smiled. "Don't worry about him none, Lou Ann. Duke, he's been spurned by many a woman, even though I tell him it ain't right. I think he cain handle whatever happens with Morgan." He covered her hand with his own and squeezed it gently. Seeing her warmed reaction reassured him. He hadn't been too sure about what to get Lou Ann for Christmas before, but now he was certain of the perfect gift.

Lou Ann laughed and turned to her son, who was seated in a high chair between his parents. "Hey, Vinny. Are you excited? This is your first time in a restaurant."

The baby's soft brown eyes were wide as saucers as they stared up at the fluorescent lighting and the vast number of people moving to and fro.

"You know what, Lou Ann? I think he likes it." Gomer reached up and tickled the baby's stomach.

"I think you're right." Lou Ann replied, tousling the boy's hair playfully. She reveled in the rare moment the three had gotten to spend some time together alone.

"Uh…what looks good to you?" Duke glanced at Morgan over the top of his menu.

"Seafood's looking very good this evening." She murmured nonchalantly.

"Seafood? I love seafood." Duke replied happily.

"What are you talking about, Slater? When you were my corporal, you never made two bones about how much you hated seafood." Carter eyed him suspiciously.

Duke shot him a murderous glare and flushed as he looked again at Morgan. "I, uh, well…that is, to say…" He snapped his fingers. "Would you know it? I acquired the taste for it in Vietnam."

"I dig." Morgan winked knowingly before turning back to her menu.

Duke placed his aside and leaned forward on the table. "So, Morgan," he flashed her a winning smile. "What do you like to do in your free time?"

"Here's a question," she cautiously placed her elbows on the table and leaned toward him to look him in the eye. "What do _you _like to do?"

"Anything you like to do." He answered quickly without thinking. When he saw her triumphant smile, he frowned and pointed at her warningly. "No fair! I asked you first."

"How about avoiding tenacious corporals? It's, like, one of my favorite pastimes."

Duke sat back in surprise. "Well, I'm sorry…" Realizing the intended insult, he frowned. "Hey!"

Morgan laughed. "You know, you remind me of someone."

"Really?" Duke smiled and shook his head. "Who?"

"Now I'm sure!" Morgan cried. "Neil Lackstacker!"

Duke's face fell. "Neil Lackstacker? Who in the heck is that?"

"A kid I grew up with back home. He was the cutest little guy. And the way he like, followed everyone around and asked questions, well…he was sort of like a little brother to everyone in town."

"I remind you of your surrogate kid brother?" Duke croaked, his voice tinted with despair.

"Uh-huh." She smiled. "You know, the resemblance is really uncanny."

Duke sighed. "But…surely I must be more suave or handsome or dashing." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Morgan stood, laughing and shaking her head. "You are so cute!" She waved pertly before walking off in the direction of the bathroom.

Duke watched her go wistfully. "We are _so _far from where I want us to be right now."

He turned his head, listening to the conversation of two businessmen sitting in a booth only a few feet behind them.

"…government's starting to make good on their word. The Army's pulling out of Vietnam by the hundreds. And they say the Marines should be out by spring."

His companion grunted. "About time, if you ask me. Now, we've got even bigger things to worry about here at home. I'm tired of turning on the news and listening to the president talk shit about Vietnam for an hour and a half. It's a good thing they're pulling out. In my opinion, we should've done so _years _ago!"

Duke gulped. The antiwar sentiment was only growing in strength. Being viewed as a hated enemy in the eyes of his own country did nothing to ease his state of mind.

"Come on, Momer. Put that confounded thing away!" Grandpa Pyle sighed in frustration at his wife, who was bent intently over her Ouija board.

"I'm jus' checkin' somethin'. I've had a bad feelin' in my bones all night, an' when I got a bad feelin' in my bones, it usually means there's somethin' evil in the stars." She moved another object ever so slowly and traced over the patterns with her fingers. She gasped. "It's Gomer!" She breathed. "His stars are aligned for great danger!"

"Momer, don't be silly. Gomer ain't in any danger! He's a Pyle! He looks six foot! He cain look after himself!" Otis Pyle frowned. "Why, his great-granddaddy, my father, went a-chargin' up San Juan Hill himself alongside Teddy Roosevelt, dodgin' bullets ever' step of the way! He was ridin' like a man inspired. Teddy turned to him an' said, 'Pyle, you're ridin' like a man inspired.' That's what he said…"

Duke looked over Barney's shoulder to get a glimpse of Grandma Pyle's board. "Say, I'm curious. What have the stars got in store for me?"

"It depends." Grandma Pyle replied sagely. "Tell me, boy. What's your star sign?"

"Sagittarius." He replied, leaning forward. "Why?"

Grandma Pyle consulted her board. "The stars hold many things for young Sagittarius." She studied the markings closely through her glasses. "There's a comet crossing your path. Hard to say whether it'll impact your life or not…"

Duke glanced briefly at Morgan before turning back to Grandma Pyle. "Yeah? What else does it say?"

"Let's see…oh, goodness!" Grandma Pyle drew back in surprise. "Your path crosses with Gomer's right at the point of imminent danger!"

Duke frowned. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Just watch your back, dear. And tell Gomer to keep his lucky troll doll close." She murmured gently.

"Pa, Pa!" Opie cried, running up to the table. "Look, look! It's snowing outside!"

"Snowing?" Carter looked up incredulously. "In Los Angeles? Impossible!"

"Let's see, son." Andy got up and followed Opie to the window. "Well…it ain't snow. But it looks like freezin' rain right enough."

Everyone else clamored to get a look out the window. Gomer stayed behind, a hand on Lou Ann's arm as he looked up at the television broadcasting a weather report.

"…well, it looks like we have a rare circumstance on our hands. We have a chance of snow in the forecast. If the temperatures drop overnight below thirty degrees and this rain keeps up the way it's going, we could just possibly be waking up to a thin layer of snow Christmas morning."

"It's a miracle!" Lou Ann exclaimed, trying desperately to blink back her tears of joy.

"Shazaam." Gomer murmured quietly. "Lou Ann, it looks like you're gonna get your white Christmas, after all."

-

" 'He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,'" Gomer read slowly from the musty storybook, Vincent looking at the pictures wide-eyed from his father's lap. " ' an' away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight, 'Happy Christmas to all, an' to all a good night.'" He closed the book and kissed the top of his son's head. "Happy Christmas, Vincent."

"Curry!" The baby cried, clapping his hands together, then reaching out to touch the cover of the book with his palm.

"That's Santy Claus. What does Santy Claus say?" Gomer reached down and nudged the boy encouragingly.

"Ho, ho." The baby replied, smiling sweetly up at the man holding him. His mother had been teaching him that response for months.

"Ho ho? You're very smart, buddy. You know that?"

The baby touched the picture of the red-clad figure again. "Sammy."

Gomer sighed sadly. "You even know who Santy Claus is. But your daddy's still jus' a pitcher."

"Ba boo." The baby replied, reaching up to touch the shiny shooting medals on Gomer's uniform.

Lou Ann smiled and stood up from her chair. "I'm sorry, Gomer. But it's way past Vinny's bedtime an' I want him to be well-rested for Christmas tomorrow."

Gomer nodded resignedly. "You're right, Lou Ann." He stood. "I guess we'd better put the little feller to bed."

Before long, Vincent was outfitted in his pajamas and put to bed in his crib.

"Nighty-night, Vinny." Lou Ann cooed quietly.

"Sweet dreams. Tomorrow's your very first Christmas." Gomer smiled down at the boy before slowly leading Lou Ann over to the window.

The two gazed out the window with rapture, willing the rain pelting down to freeze into snow. "Please," Lou Ann breathed, wishing with all her heart. She shivered in anticipation, goosebumps popping out on her bare arms. Gomer saw them and rubbed her arms in an effort to warm them, holding her close to his chest.

"You tired?" She asked him, reveling in the pleasure of his warm embrace.

"Guess I kinda am. Anyway, we got to get to bed if we want Santy Claus to come."

Lou Ann glanced up at his earnest expression and shook her head, laughing softly. "Oh, Gomer. In my opinion, he's already come."

-

Lou Ann stirred and sleepily opened her eyes. A glance at the window told her it was still dark outside. She turned over to read her alarm clock. Quarter after oh-six hundred. She sighed and stretched, slowly sitting up in bed. "Merry Christmas, Gomer." She hugged her knees and smiled. "Gomer?" She turned to find his side of the bed empty.

Grabbing her robe, she jumped out of bed and padded out to the kitchen. She stopped short in the doorway, smiling. There, Gomer was bent over the stove, fixing omelets and pancakes diligently. He wore a red plaid shirt and a Santa hat on his head. For fear of waking anyone, he whistled Christmas carols instead of singing them. The sight was so endearing that a giggle couldn't help but escape Lou Ann's mouth.

Gomer looked over at the doorway and smiled. "Hey, Lou Ann. What are you doin' up?"

"How cain anyone sleep Christmas mornin'?" She batted her eyes and sidled up to him, kissing his cheek lovingly. "Merry Christmas, darlin'."

"Shazaam," he murmured, coloring slightly.

"I've missed spendin' Christmas with you." She said, hugging him close to her.

"I have too, Lou Ann." He smiled down at her head and hugged her back. "More'n you could imagine."

He turned back to the stove and returned his attention to the food sitting on the stovetop. "Well, seein' as how you walked in on my Christmas surprise, maybe you cain help me finish it up."

"Why, Gomer. I had no idea this was your Christmas surprise." Lou Ann gazed down at the stove with interest.

"Yeah, I didn't have enough to go out an' get presents for ever'one, so I thought I'd jus' fix ever'one Christmas breakfast as my gift to them."

"Gomer, how thoughtful! What a wonderful gift!" Lou Ann exclaimed.

"Oh, you ain't included." Gomer smiled down at her secretively. "I've got you a special present."

"My, Gomer. It ain't like you to keep somethin' back from me." She teased.

"I think you'll think it's worth the wait." Gomer winked at her before turning back to his breakfast.

"Hey! Good morning June, Ward." Duke bounded into the kitchen and nodded at Lou Ann and Gomer in turn. "The Beav and I have just woken up from our long winter's nap and we're ready to have at those presents." He rubbed his hands together gleefully in anticipation.

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait, Wally." Lou Ann smiled at Gomer's friend. "Nobody else is up yet."

Gomer was carefully dishing the omelets and pancakes onto plates and covering them with tin foil. "It's okay, Lou Ann. I'm jus' about done in here."

"Well, in that case, I guess I better give you guys my present to Vincent now." Duke pulled it out from behind his back and handed it to Lou Ann. "Sorry, I didn't have time to wrap it."

"That's okay, Duke." Lou Ann turned the rattle over in her hands. It was circular and lined with bells that jingled crisply when it was shaken. "Vinny's gonna love this!"

"Speakin' of Vinny…" Gomer looked at his watch and smiled. "It's creepin' up on seven hundred hours right now. What about wakin' him up to his very first Christmas?"

"I'm ready if you're ready." Lou Ann laughed, linking her arm through his.

"Well, I'm ready if you're ready." Gomer replied as they made their way back toward the crib.

Duke followed them back to the bedroom and stood in the doorway to watch as the Pyles bent their heads over the crib.

Lou Ann rattled the toy in her hand gently. "Merry Christmas, Vinny. Time to wake up."

"Hear them jingle bells? They's comin' to tell you it's Christmastime." Gomer reached down and lifted the sleepy-eyed baby out of his crib. "See the jingle bells? Merry Christmas, Vincent."

"This is a present from Uncle Duke." Lou Ann handed it to the baby. "Say thank you for your very first Christmas present."

The baby squealed with glee, shaking the bell-covered rattle insistently.

Duke smiled. "Think nothing of it, kid."

"He's prob'ly hungry." Lou Ann took him from Gomer and headed for the bureau. "I'll get him dressed. Ever'one else is comin' in an hour. Duke, would you be a doll an' wake my daddy up an' Gomer, could you get Vinny's bottle out of the fridge an' warm it up? I mixed the formula last night."

"Sure, Lou Ann." The Marines turned to go fulfill their prospective duties.

-

As expected, the rest of the party soon arrived. The Carters came at oh-eight hundred on the dot, Bunny smiling and carrying several brightly colored packages. The sergeant followed behind her, bedecked once again in his full Santa suit and grimly leading Tipper on a leash.

Not too later after them, everyone else soon came. They exclaimed over Gomer's breakfasts and settled down to eat them. Duke was finished first and jumped out of his seat, ushering everyone to take a seat around the tree. "ALL RIGHT EVERYONE, LET'S GO! MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE IT!"

Goober laughed. "Hey, that's a pretty darn good impression of Sergeant Carter there!" He stood and moved to join Duke in the living area.

"You thought that was good, listen to my imitation of Sergeant Brooks." Duke frowned and cleared his throat. "What are we, idiots or idiot soldiers? Put on those thinking caps, will ya?!"

"I don't even know that guy an' I _still _think it's funny!" Goober chuckled. "You know, I cain do some impressions myself."

Duke smiled. "Really? Can I hear one?"

"Sure! I cain do Cary Grant real good." Goober coughed and looked out in the distance. "JudyJudyJudyJudyJudy!"

"Interesting." Duke laughed and led Goober to a seat. "I've done a little Cary Grant, too. I also do this one of Clark Gable…"

"Gonna get on the floor an play Santy Claus for us, Sergeant?" Andy asked as he took a seat on the couch next to Grandma and Grandpa Pyle.

Carter only gave a noncommittal grunt in reply. Catching his wife's murderous look, he pulled a thin smile. "Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Joy to the World, O Come All Ye Faithful, sorry no returns, batteries are not included, and a Happy New Year."

"Don't worry, Sheriff Taylor." Bunny eyed her husband warily. "I'll be watching to make sure Santa stays jolly."

"Come on, Pa, when cain we open presents?" Opie asked impatiently from his seat on the floor, scratching Tipper behind the ears just the way the dog liked it.

"Yeah, Andy, when?" Barney implored. On meeting his employer's puzzled look, he smiled. "I mean, for the kids' sake. This is torture for them, you know. Not like I care or anything…"

"All right." Aunt Bee seated herself in the comfiest chair and turned to Sergeant Carter expectantly. "Well, what are you waitin' for, Santa? Give the kids their presents already!"

And so it commenced. The morning's presents were mainly those under the tree for Opie and Vincent, as well as the grandparents and Aunt Bee.

Everyone turned and waited expectantly while Gomer and Lou Ann slowly unwrapped Lou Ann's gift to Vincent.

"What you get, Vinny? What you get?" Gomer bounced the little boy, who was gazing rapturously at the bright wrapping paper.

"Look what Mommy made you, Vinny." Lou Ann opened the box and held up the tiny sweater for all to see. It was a deep golden yellow color, with scarlet trim kitted around the waistline, sleeves and collar. Knitted across the front in scarlet was US MARINES. Underneath was the Marine Corps emblem, depicting the globe encircled by an eagle and an anchor.

"Aww," Bunny smiled. "How cute! Did you knit that all by yourself?"

"Actually, I did. I didn't even have a pattern, but it came out all right." Lou Ann showed it to her son. "Look, Vinny. Look at your pretty new sweater Mommy made you."

"Ma-Ma!" Vincent cried, reaching out for the gift.

"That was a real cute idear, Lou Ann. Vincent's a little Marine now." Gomer grinned and helped Lou Ann pull the sweater over the baby's head.

"He's jus' like his daddy now." Lou Ann smiled at the two lovingly.

"How adorable!" Grandma Pyle sighed dotingly from the couch. Grandpa Pyle swelled with pride. "My great-grandson. He's a real Pyle, all right!"

"Hold still! I gotta get a picture of this!" Barney fumbled with his bulky contraption of a camera before snapping a picture. "There!" He smiled triumphantly as the photo came out and waited a few minutes for it to develop. When it did, though, he frowned. The picture had a good detailed view of the ceiling, with the top of Barney's forehead visible in the lower left hand corner.

Andy looked over his shoulder and laughed. "Hey, Barney! You oughtta send that in to the pitcher contest the photography club holds ever' year at the county fair. It should take first prize!"

"Oh, be quiet." Barney grumbled, throwing the photograph to the floor.

Grandma and Grandpa Pyle opened their gifts, exclaiming over their blankets and legwarmers and liver pills in good humor. Aunt Bee received several new cooking utensils to replace the ones she'd worn out with repeated use. "I am well-known for my cooking, ain't I?" She smiled.

Mr. Poovie tore into his gifts next with eager zeal. He received several clothing items, including a plaid checkered coat and dress slacks, and a coffee mug (for his decaffeinated sugar-free coffee that really tasted like boiled water. Poovie didn't mind, though. In all actuality, he considered himself a very big coffee drinker.) He was very pleased with his gifts.

Everyone had gone above and beyond to lavish baby Vincent with gifts. By the end of the morning, he was rolling in new books, clothes and toys.

Opie was very happy with his lot. He had gotten the latest Boxcar Children mystery, a Rubik's cube, and a rock 'em sock 'em robots set. He also received several clothes, but clothes weren't good or exciting gifts!

Lunch commenced after all the children and grandparents had opened their gifts. Christmas dinner had all been prepared the evening before. All they had to do was heat up the dishes and set them out on the table.

Opie finished his meal in record time. "May I be excused?" He murmured, jumping up from the table and running over to the window. "All right! It's snowing!"

"Snowing?!" Everyone else jumped up and ran over to look out the window. Sure enough, a very thin, tentative snowfall was occurring outside. It hardly stuck to the pavement, but was there all the same. _It was snowing!_

In a matter of mere seconds, Opie had pulled on his jacket, clipped the leash on Tipper's collar, and was racing outside to enjoy the snow. Everyone else quickly grabbed their coats to join him.

Gomer and Lou Ann were soon the last ones left inside, still pulling layers of clothes over Vincent's head. They didn't want to take their chances with such a small baby catching a cold.

When at last they couldn't fit any more sweaters over the baby's head, Gomer zipped his coat down and tucked the boy inside. "All right, Vincent. We're gonna take you outside now. Jus' you be snug as a bug in a rug so's you don't get sick, an' Momer an' Daddy's gonna show you the snow."

The baby's wide brown eyes sparkled as he settled in against his father's chest comfortably. He looked up and laughed when he saw the source of the voice that was speaking to him. His tiny fingers reached up in search of something to latch onto. "Da-Da!"

Lou Ann's mouth flew open in surprise. "Gomer…" She whispered breathlessly, "He said it! He called you Daddy!"

Gomer's face lit up. He could hardly believe what he had just heard. "Shazaam!" He cried, hugging the baby to him. Lou Ann embraced them both, reaching up to kiss Gomer's face.

Pleased with the ruckus he had caused, Vincent clapped his hands together gleefully. "Da-Da!"

"I've got to tell ever'one!" Lou Ann exclaimed, dashing out the door to catch up to the rest of the party.

Gomer sniffed and wiped away a tear as he coddled the infant. "Thank you, Vincent. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He murmured. "That there was the best Christmas present a daddy could ever get."

"Da-Da!" The baby replied.

-

The two emerged into the crisp, cold air to shouts of joy and congratulations. Gomer nodded and smiled, looking all around at the amazing sight that beheld him.

The snow fell freely and gently from the sky without a wind to stir it. Opie and Tipper ran about the sparse front yard of the apartment building happily, Opie laughing and trying to catch a few flakes on his tongue while Tipper chased after him barking. Grandma and Grandpa Pyle pointed up at the clouds, observing the snowfall rapturously while Barney tried to gather some of it on the ground. Sergeant Carter stood with his hand out in front of him, frozen in shock. Bunny laughed at his expression and hugged him lovingly. Duke looked to the sky and closed his eyes as if he were wishing for something. Andy and Goober were policing the streets, waving happily to any car that passed by. Aunt Bee was their driving force, brushing away the snow on the road with the broom she had grabbed on her way out.

"Hey there, little sport!" Mr. Poovie walked up to Gomer and Vincent and pinched the baby's nose fondly. "You cain't see much of the snow from there. How about you come with Granddad over to the tree an' see the snow?" He winked at Gomer, who nodded.

"Sure, Mr. Poovie. I think Vincent would like that a lot." Gomer unzipped his coat and lifted the rotund bundle of clothes out from underneath, handing him to his father-in-law.

"Please!" Poovie raised a hand in protest. "You're my baby girl's husband an' the father of my grandchild. I'd feel honored if you'd call me dad. Even if you do hook rugs," he muttered.

Gomer smiled. "Go-oll-ly," he breathed. "All right…dad."

Poovie nodded and pointed to something over Gomer's shoulder. He turned to see Lou Ann standing alone, admiring the snow.

She hugged herself out of bliss more than chill and sighed happily, watching her breath expel in the cool air before her. She heard someone come up and stand beside her and she knew it was Gomer. She smiled and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Look at it, Gomer," she whispered, her eyes still trained on the falling snow. "Ain't it wonderful?"

"It sure is." Gomer grinned and gently put his arm across her shoulders.

"It's Christmas snow, jus' for us." Lou Ann laid a hand on his chest. "You know, I cain't really remember the last time I saw snow on Christmas."

"That was a-ways back for me, too. When was my last Christmas with snow?…Oh, I know! It must've been before I went an' joined the Marine Corps, Mayberry 1963!" His eyes lit up at the memories. "The snow was real deep that year. I 'member cause Gran'pa had a rough time gettin' out check on his septic tank in the mornin'. He really takes pride in it, he does. Course, us Pyles was the first family on the south side of Mayberry to own a septic tank. Gran'pa shovels a path from the house to the septic tank, an' that's it. He don't ever worry about the rest!" Gomer laughed.

"That also must've been the year Wally an' I got trapped in the gas station for two days. Would you know it, the first snow came down right in the middle of the day. We was under the hood of Floyd's car, you know, Floyd the barber? Well, we was workin' on his car inside when it all came down jus' all of a sudden. It had to be at least four feet high! Well, seein' as how we couldn't get out till they dug us out, Wally an' me had to eat the crab apples an' beef jerky he kept stored away with the oil filters. They warn't tasty, though. They tasted like gas. Have you ever tasted gasoline, Lou Ann? It ain't nuthin' to brag about. But the smell of gas, now that's another thing entire! I always did like the smell of gas, it's one of my favorite smells.

"An that must've also been the year Silas Whittaker fell on his driveway an' split his pants an' lost Mrs. Whittaker's shiny new warshin' machine part. It cost him three dollars an' fifty cents, too! Cain you imagine losin' such an expensive part in the snow like that, Lou Ann? Poor old Mrs. Whittaker was heartbroke. So me an' Opie got down on our hands an' knees an' searched his whole yard. We searched an' searched. Never did find it. We nearly got frostbit, though. Aunt Bee warn't too happy about that. Mr. Whittaker finally found it in the springtime, when he mowed his lawn for the first time that year. But he ran over it with his lawnmower an' it got stuck, so he had to go out an' buy a new part an' get his lawnmower fixed. That cost him a lot more than three dollars an' fifty cents!"

Lou Ann giggled. "Oh, Gomer. I jus' love all your stories an' the way you tell them." She sighed. "What really makes this snow special, though, is that it came on our very first Christmas together…as a family."

"Well, goll-ly. Ain't that the truth?" Gomer smiled down at her. "You know, I never thought about it like that." He hugged her close. "Looks like you got your Christmas wish, Lou Ann."

"Actually, I really don't know if I did or not." Lou Ann smiled. "All I want is for this Christmas to be special to you, Gomer."

"It sure is," he murmured in reply, kissing the top of her head. "This is the best Christmas I ever had."

-

Later that evening, when Vincent was napping, Tipper and Opie were playing with all their new things, and Grandpa Pyle was snoring on the couch, the adults completed their gift exchange.

"Better get Barney a present fast, Sergeant." Andy nodded to the deputy. "It don't look like he's gonna hang on much longer."

"That's silly! I can, too!" Barney exclaimed indignantly. But as soon as a present landed in his lap, he eagerly tore it open. "Oh, boy! What'd I get?" He lifted the lid off the box and threw it over his shoulder. "Huh?" He picked up the bulky cartridges in confusion. "Camera film?"

"We saw you was packin' your camera along an' we figured you was plannin' on improvin' your photography skills out here. So we bought you some more film. It was Opie's idea." Andy nodded to his son, who looked up distractedly. "Oh, yeah. You're welcome, Barney!" He called over his shoulder.

"I-I don't know what to say." He stammered. And it was true. He really didn't.

"Vince, open that box right there!" Bunny gestured to her long, skinny flat box.

"Why?" He asked, eying her suspiciously.

"Because it's from me, silly!" Bunny punched his shoulder playfully.

"Well, in that case, you'd better open yours from me first." Carter sat down next to her and handed her a small black box.

"First of all, I want it on good authority this isn't some cheap, overpriced imitation trinket you peddled off of that Friendly Freddy." Bunny gingerly took the box and glowered at him warily.

"What? This is Vince, your hubby! What reasons do you have to think I'm cheap, especially at Christmas, eh?" Carter spread his arms out helplessly.

Bunny cocked an eyebrow at him coolly. "How do you want 'em? Chronologically or alphabetical?"

"Oh, all right." Carter grumbled. "I give up! You can call Boyle and ask him to back me up. He was there when I bought it."

"That's better. In that case, I'll take your word for it."

Carter rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Dames," he muttered under his breath.

Bunny opened the box and all ideas of her husband being cheap left her mind. "Oh, Vince!" She exclaimed. "Pearl earrings! Oh, you didn't!"

Carter laughed smugly. "I did, though, didn't I?"

"They're beautiful!" Bunny kissed him happily. "Here, help me put them on!" She jumped up and led him over to a mirror.

"Ho, ho, ho." He murmured in her ear as she replaced her current earrings with the new ones.

"Vince…" She smiled at their reflection before remembering her own gift to him. She turned and hurried back to the couch, pulling him with her. "Now you have to open what I got you!"

"All right, Bun." Carter chuckled and sat down, opening his gift. He sported a wide grin on his face all up until he lifted the lid and gazed down at what lay nestled in the tissue paper. "What's this?" He asked in dismay.

"Your new tie, silly! Remember how you said you never had enough ties to wear whenever you're out of uniform? Well, I made this for you in my sewing class!" Bunny smiled.

"This?" Carter picked it up and could only stare at its utter ugliness. It was so…orange. And bright. Circles, squares and triangles made of yellow felt were stitched meticulously all over the front.

Bunny's face fell. "Don't you like it?"

"Huh?" Carter glanced at her and smiled. "What? Oh, yeah. I love it! A tie, you said?"

"Uh-huh." Bunny's eyes lit back up eagerly. "You can wear it to that high school reunion of mine next week!"

"What you say? Oh, yeah, sure." He murmured, straining to feign a smile at the revolting gift. "I can't wait." When he made sure Bunny wasn't looking, he dropped the box like a hot potato and quickly slammed the lid on top of it.

Barney, Andy, and Goober opened a few more gifts. Barney finally opened up the present he'd really wanted – some new police files fiction stories.

"Don't tell me you really read all them high jinks-car chase-finger printin' tall tales, Barne." Andy smiled at Barney from his chair. "It's no wonder you overreact so much on the job."

"I don't overreact!" Barney frowned indignantly. "I just happen to be deputy sheriff of the entire town of Mayberry an' I take my job very seriously! Oh, you can laugh all you want. But when our fair town gets attacked by one of these high-falutin' criminals, I for one am gonna be ready!"

Andy shook his head, laughing. "Now here's a gift." He murmured, unwrapping his package. "A whole new pack of blottin' paper. Hey, Ope. Jus' out of curiosity, how'd you know I needed more blottin' paper?"

Opie grinned sheepishly. "Well, I kinda sorta maybe used up all your old blottin' paper to make paper airplanes."

"Umm-hmm." Andy smiled at him knowingly. "I kinda sorta maybe thought so. But it was real nice to give me a replacement pack. Thanks, son."

"You're welcome, Pa." Opie smiled, wondering whether or not he was in trouble for the deed.

"Hey, a new socket wrench!" Goober held up his gift happily and glanced around at those assembled in the living room. "How'd anyone guess I needed a new one?"

"Well, you did bust your old one when you patched up my car last weekend." Andy smiled. "I'm glad you like it."

"Do I ever! Thanks, Andy!" Goober grinned and picked up a package from under the tree, passing it over to Gomer. "Here, cousin. This one's from me."

"Thanks, Goober. I didn't know you was gettin' me anythin'." Gomer smiled.

"Well, I didn't really put myself out much, seein' as it was all last minute an' ever'thing. Here's yours, Lou Ann." Goober handed Lou Ann her package and sat back to let them open their gifts.

"_Gone With the Wind?" _Gomer looked over the book, turning the hefty paperback volume over in his hands.

"Yeah, you've only seen the movie a hundred thousand times!" Goober laughed. "Actually, it was the fattest book they had down at the used book shop. I figured it'd give you somethin' to do while you sit in your ditches over in Vietnaam all day."

"Thank you, Goober! That was real thoughtful of you. Thoughtful, thoughtful, thoughtful! I'll be sure to read it, too. When Sergeant Brooks ain't around. He don't like to see his men at leisure." Gomer smiled and turned to Lou Ann, who was quickly opened up her present. It turned out to be a large black book.

"Go ahead an' open it." Goober nodded encouragingly.

"All right." Lou Ann turned the pages and gasped in surprise. "Why, Gomer! It's your family!"

Gomer looked over her shoulder and realized she was right. The book was an old family photo album of all of Gomer's ancestors.

She turned the page to a large photo of Theodore Roosevelt surrounded by his Rough Riders. Gomer reached over and pointed to one of the faces. "There! That's him. That's Great-Gran'pa Jackson!"

"How cain you tell for sure?" Lou Ann looked intently at the figure he'd indicated.

Gomer smiled and shook his head from side to side happily. "You cain always tell a Pyle by his facial expression, least that's what Gran'ma always says."

Sure enough, the figure Gomer had pointed to had the same, stupid grin on his face that was familiar to all who knew Gomer. The reason Lou Ann hadn't noticed it before was because his expression was somewhat hidden by his full beard.

"My, ain't he handsome?" She smiled at Gomer and turned the page.

"I owe a whole lot to Great-Gran'pa Jackson. He really did a lot for us Pyles." Gomer glanced over the next page and grinned. "There's Gran'pa in the cavalry! Jus' look at how he sits on that horse!" He pointed to the photograph of a young man sitting astride a massive black stallion, the United States flag borne proudly on his saddle pad.

"An' look, there's Gran'ma an' Daddy. Hey, Goober. Your parents are in here, too! There's Uncle Ralph an' Aunt Marther, bless her heart." Gomer smiled at the pictures.

Lou Ann turned the page again. "Oh, Gomer. Look!"

"That's Momer in the war." Gomer murmured quietly, staring down at the pretty dark figure clad in her white Red Cross uniform. She sat on a simple bench, the wind blowing her hair as she smiled gaily for the camera. The Arc de Triumph was barely visible in the far corner of the photo, indicating that the picture had been taken in France.

"She's so beautiful, Gomer." Lou Ann whispered, gripping his hand tightly.

"Ain't she, though?" Gomer quickly brushed away some tears and sniffed. "Goll-ly. I didn't plan on gettin' so emotional-like lookin' through pitchers an' such."

Goober put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay, Cousin." He'd lived with his mother for most all of his life. He couldn't imagine what it had been like for Gomer, growing up without a mother after losing her at such an early age.

Gomer just nodded, seemingly unable to find his voice for once.

Lou Ann turned the page. Gomer smiled and indicated the toddler depicted in the various pictures on the page. "Shazaam! Look, Lou Ann, look! It's me!"

"Why, Gomer! When you was a baby, you looked jus' like Vinny!" Lou Ann exclaimed.

"Goll-ly. I did, didn't I?" Gomer pointed to another photo. "An' that there's Cousin Goober. An' lookit there, that's Gran'pa an' his septic tank!" He laughed.

Lou Ann flipped to the next page. She gasped and pointed to one of a little boy smiling, a large dog standing next to him in the middle of a dense wood. The boy had the same familiar grin on his face, a thumb hooked over his messy overalls. His dark hair fell over his face boyishly and he wore his baseball cap at a crooked angle on his head. Lou Ann looked up from the page and turned to her husband. "That has to be you!"

"Actually, that's me an' Tiny, my first dog." Gomer tapped the image of the gigantic hound the boy stood next to in the picture. "I remember him bein' as big as I was. We'd go out an' play fetch in the woods together. Only I was so little, he'd usually knock me down an' I'd get all dirty an' then Gran'ma would get all upset. But I really didn't mind, though. I liked gettin' to play with Tiny. She must've follered us out one time an' took that. I guess that means I'd have to be about five or six in that pitcher."

"You were cute as a little boy!" Lou Ann turned to the next page and looked over the photos with rapt interest.

"I thought you'd get a kick outta that." Goober smiled. "There's some blank pages in the back you cain use to put in pitchers of Vincent."

"It's a lovely present! Thank you, Cousin Goober." Lou Ann got up from her seat and kissed his cheek.

Duke smiled from his seat on the floor, then yawned and stretched. "Old Brooks will put me back in shape when we get back to Vietnam. But until then, I don't care. Opie, can you toss me another one of those Christmas cookies?"

"Sure, Duke." Opie replied, tearing himself away from his tug-of-war game with Tipper and padding out to the kitchen.

Duke looked down at his small stack of presents. For being an unexpected guest this holiday, his gifts had been satisfying. He'd received a new baseball cap, book, and shirts. Nothing fancy, but good all the same.

When the doorbell rang, he slowly got up to answer it. "I'll get it!" He opened the door and stood in the hallway, dumbfounded. There, standing right before him, was Morgan Valentine in a Santa hat!

"Hey…can I like, come in, or is there some secret password?" She stared up at him in confusion.

"Merry Christmas to me!" He murmured under his breath. To Morgan, he snapped out of his daze and stepped aside. "Uh…nope, no password. Come right on in!"

"Thanks, man." She hurried inside to greet everyone. "Hey, Lou Ann! Hey, everyone!"

Duke closed the door and turned around to see her handing a piece of candy to Opie. He smiled when he saw where she was standing and strode confidently up to her. "Hey, uh, got a present for me there?" He pointed at the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling and raised his eyebrows.

Morgan laughed. "Oh, yeah! As a matter of fact, I do. Hold out your hand."

_Yes, _he mouthed, closing his eyes and holding his hand out in front of him expectantly.

"Here you go. Merry Christmas." Morgan slapped a candy cane in his palm and moved off toward Mr. Poovie.

"Huh?" Duke looked from the candy cane to her and back again. He sagged against the wall in disappointment, sighing heavily.

"Here's my gift to you, Gomer." Lou Ann handed him a small package. "Go ahead an' open it."

Gomer tore away the wrapping paper and held up a white handkerchief. Embroidered in gold on one of the corners was 'Gomer Pyle, USMC.'

"I stitched it for you before I gave you my embroidery scissors back in March." Lou Ann smiled. "Unfold it."

Gomer did and was surprised to find inside of it a lock of blond hair sewn down to the center, crossed over with a shorter black one. "Lou Ann…"

"That's a piece of me an' Vinny's hair." Lou Ann smiled sadly. "Oh, Gomer. I get so worried about you bein' all by your lonesome over in Vietnaam. Ever' day I wish I could be with you, an' that Vinny could get to see you. So, in this way, a part of me an' Vinny's always gonna be with you, lookin' out for you. Makin' sure you stay safe."

"Goll-ly. What a thoughtful gift. Thank you, Lou Ann." Gomer carefully tucked the handkerchief into his breast pocket and handed her a thin, light package covered in newspaper. "Here's mine. I didn't have much time to wrap it."

"That's okay, Gomer. Thank you! I…" She carefully took off the newspaper and stared at the present. "A 'do not disturb' sign?" She held the door hanger out to him in confusion.

"I figured out what you wanted most of all, 'side from the snow." Gomer looked down at his hands in embarrassment. "What you wanted was time alone with me, away from ever'one."

"Well, actually…yes." Lou Ann finally replied. "It might seem a little selfish, but I ain't hardly ever gotten the time to really talk to you durin' your leave without someone interruptin' us." She turned the sign over in her hands. "An'… 'disturb' ain't even spelled right."

"Really? But your daddy said it was spelled with an e. I even asked him." Gomer looked over at his father-in-law. "But that's why I gave you the sign." He nodded to the door hanger. "From here on out this evenin', it cain be jus' the two of us. Duke an' I already got Vincent's crib moved to the guest room where he's stayin', if that's all right with you, that is."

"It's more than all right!" Lou Ann cried, throwing her arms around his neck. "Oh, Gomer! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Hold on a minute, Lou Ann." Gomer stood and pulled her up, holding her close. He turned to the others. "Would you all excuse us, please?"

Poovie nodded and winked from his chair. "Sure, son. Go right ahead. I'll make sure the little one gets tucked in right an' proper."

"Thank you. Merry Christmas, ever'one." He called, slowly making his way back to the room.

"Merry Christmas!" They called.

"Merry Christmas, Gomer." Lou Ann murmured in his ear, smiling happily.

They paused for a moment outside the door in order for Lou Ann to hang the sign on the doorknob before proceeding inside.

"Did you really like your gift, Lou Ann?" Gomer gazed down at her imploringly.

"Actually…" Lou Ann smiled up at him adoringly. "It's the most perfect gift I could ever ask for!"

She leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth, simultaneously kicking the door closed behind her.


	25. Unexpected Guests

**Chapter 25**

_Unexpected Guests_

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Gomer stirred, slowly acknowledging the alarm of his wristwatch underneath his pillow. Half past oh-five hundred on the dot. His leave was up. It was time to go, if he was to make his flight.

He looked down and saw Lou Ann curled up next to him, sleeping peacefully. A sharp pang tore at his heart as he realized he was going to have to leave her again. They'd been so happy last night. He hated to break her heart for the millionth time.

He smiled as he thought over the events of last night. After they had retired to the privacy of their room, they had been able to sit down and have the long talk they'd both so desired. They'd talked and talked and talked, about anything and everything. Both had been just happy being together, enjoying each other's company. Their connection hadn't been lost at all. If anything, it was only stronger after all they'd endured together.

And after that, well…Gomer blushed a deep red. After that, he'd been ready to go to sleep, but Lou Ann had had other ideas.

It was time to leave. Gomer hugged his wife one last time before getting up and dressing into his musty green fatigues.

A soft, barely distinguishable knock came at the door. "Gomer, you up?"

"It's all right, Duke. You cain come in." Gomer whispered, moving over to the bed and pulling the blankets tight around Lou Ann.

"What, you're not even packed?" Duke hissed in dismay, hurriedly throwing things into Gomer's bag. "You _want _us to go AWOL or something?"

"I'm sorry, Duke. It's jus'…" Gomer folded Lou Ann's hands together on her chest and stroked them, smiling down at her lovingly. "Golly, I hate to leave her."

"Yeah, there's a lot of things we don't want to do, but we do 'em anyway. It's our job." Duke zipped up Gomer's bag and gestured to him impatiently. "Come on!"

"Goodbye, Lou Ann." Gomer murmured quietly, holding one of her hands to his chest. Why did he have to leave her again? Why couldn't there be some other way? He blinked back his tears and swallowed noisily. "I love you…with all my heart, I love you." He kissed the top of her hand before slowly setting it back down on top of the other.

Duke rolled his eyes. "Very touching. Now, come on!"

_I cain't look back, I cain't look back. Sergeant Carter done told me a Marine's gotta keep movin' forward, an' cain't look back, _Gomer thought as he moved toward the door, taking his packed bags and slinging them over his shoulder. He paused in the doorway for a moment, stealing a sad glance over his shoulder at the only girl he'd ever cared for romantically, wondering if it was the last time he would ever get to see her. _But I bet the Marines he was talkin' about warn't married!_

_-_

"Well, if it isn't Tweedle-dumb and Tweedle-dumber." Sergeant Brooks frowned at Duke and Gomer as they reentered the camp. "You decided to show up, after all."

"Are you suggesting we would actually desert…?" Duke took a step forward threateningly, angry and incredulous with his sergeant.

Gomer stopped him. "Hold up a minute, Duke. The might not be too wise. After all, he is our commandin' officer, ain't he?" He walked over to Sergeant Brooks and smiled, waving tentatively. "Hey there, Sergeant Brooks. Did you have a nice Christmas?"

Brooks looked at him for a moment, his stony expression emotionless, before barking at the top of his voice, "GET YOUR GEAR ASSEMBLED AND LINE UP FOR MORNING FORMATION IMMEDIATELY!"

"Yes, sir." Gomer murmured as he and Duke hurried over to their tent.

"What were you thinking, Gomer? Why get the sourpuss all hacked off at us?" Duke growled under his breath.

"I jus' wanted to ask him a simple question. If you ask me, Duke, I'd say he's got a real unfriendly disposition. Maybe he's colicky. Gran'ma Pyle always says people what are real unfriendly all the time is that way cause they got colic." Gomer replied.

"Are you kidding? What you just heard was Sergeant Brooks' idea of being friendly!"

Gomer stopped and lifted up the tent flap. "Maybe we should've took the tent down when we was on leave. It got all worn out from the rain an' all, an' none of the other fellers was usin' it." He started to move inside, but in the dark interior of the tent, he could just make out two pairs of dark eyes staring back at him.

"Shazaam!" He pulled back hastily, bumping into Duke as he did so.

"Whoa, Gome. What's the big idea, huh?" Duke brushed himself off and looked at his friend expectantly.

"Duke, we got us a couple of coons in our tent! Big ones!" Gomer cried, pointing to the tent flap.

"Coons? In Vietnam? Somehow, I doubt that." Duke smiled and handed his pack to Gomer. "Cover me, pal. I'm going in."

He calmly proceeded into the tent. A few seconds passed before Gomer heard his excited cry. "Gomer! Get in here, take a look at this!"

Gomer hurried inside and looked incredulously at where Duke was pointing. He'd lit a lantern to make objects inside the tent more visible. There, sitting in the corner of the dimly lit tent, two dirty, young Vietnamese children hugged each other in fright.

-

"Goll-ly," Gomer breathed softly. "Hey, there. Where'd you come from?"

The kids just stared back at him, wide-eyed.

Duke shrugged. "They probably don't understand English."

"Yes, we do!" The boy cried. "We listen to BBC radio!"

Duke raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Then maybe you'll tell us what you're doing in a standard government issue tent."

The girl started to cry. Her wails reminded Gomer so much of his baby boy back home that his heart automatically went out to her.

"Don't scare 'em, Duke! Fine thing, scarin' these kids like that. Shame, shame, shame!" He slowly moved over toward the children and sat down next to them. "Hey, now. We don't want to hurt you. An' I'm real sorry if I scared you, walkin' in like I did. You don't got nuthin' to be afeared of. We's your friends."

"Yes, they do have something to be scared of. Sergeant Brooks. If he finds them here, then it's off with our heads!" Duke murmured, making a slashing motion across his throat.

"Is this your tent?" The boy looked up at Gomer earnestly.

"It sure is. How's come you two come across it?"

"We don't have any place else to go. And your tent was shelter from the rain." The boy offered simply.

"Great. We've got a couple of refugees." Duke rolled his eyes. "This just keeps getting better and better!"

"Now, Duke. Maybe we cain help them." Gomer turned to the boy. "You know where your parents are? I'm sure they must be worried about you."

The boy shook his head. "No. We don't have parents."

"Why not?"

"They are dead."

Gomer sucked in his breath. "That's terrible! Do you know for sure?"

"Yes. We saw it happen." The boy's voice trembled unevenly. The girl broke into fresh sobs of grief.

"I sure am sorry." Gomer slowly set his stuff down and grabbed his knees, hugging them to his chest. "You know, my parents died in a war, too. I ain't seed them since I was a real little boy."

"At the same time?" The boy sobbed.

"No." Gomer shook his head. "We knew Momer was gone couple years before my daddy died." He closed his eyes and swallowed painfully. "But I ain't seed neither of them since they left Mayberry, an' that was at the same time."

"Easy, Gome." Duke patted his friend's back comfortingly before turning to the kids. "That still doesn't excuse the fact that you aren't supposed to be here! Who are you, anyway?"

"My name is Hien." The boy replied. "And this is my sister, Linh."

"I'm Duke, and this is Gomer." He smiled at the kids in spite of himself. "Now, you know you guys can't stay here. We could get in a lot of trouble if you did."

Linh squealed with terror and Gomer reached out to touch her arm. "Please, Duke. Cain't you see they've been through enough?" He rubbed the girl's back soothingly, reaching a hand out toward the boy. "Besides, I think these little fellers need us."

"Thank you." The girl softly replied, hiccupping. For the moment, at least, she was mollified.

"SLATER! PYLE! WHAT'S KEEPIN' YA?"

"That's Sergeant Brooks! You gotta hide!" Gomer hissed, throwing blankets over the children.

Brooks shoved his head through the opening of the tent. "You insolent bums! You're late! Didn't anyone tell you this outfit is run without the slightest discretion? Morning assembly always happens before sunrise! Now, thanks to you, we're five minutes behind schedule! Prepare your rifles and report outside immediately before I feed you to the sharks!" With that, he disappeared.

Duke sighed, picking up his rifle. "Such a pleasant man, isn't he?"

"That man is scary. What will he do if he finds us?" Hien asked, peeping his head out from under the blankets.

"Feed you to the sharks." Duke replied flippantly.

"Duke!" Gomer frowned at his friend before turning back to the children. "It's all right, now. You two jus' stay here an' keep quiet until we get back. An' if you get hungry, I got a couple of chocolate bars in my pack. You cain have those."

"Thank you." The boy smiled and turned to comfort his sister.

"Come _on, _Gomer!" Duke stood at the opening of the tent, gesturing for Gomer. "You wanna make the sarge even angrier?"

"Roll call!" Sergeant Brooks barked, looking down at his clipboard. "Slater!"

"Here!" Duke cried, running up to the group with Gomer in tow.

Brooks let the clipboard fall to his side. "How long have you been in the Corps, Corporal?" He eyed Duke testily.

"About seven and a half years, Sarge. Why?" Duke replied, quietly catching his breath.

"Plenty of time to learn that tardiness is unacceptable! Hit the deck and give me five hundred, on the double!"

Duke sighed and dropped to the ground, beginning his push-up punishment.

"And you," Brooks turned his disgruntled countenance on Gomer. "Bozo brain. You can join him. Both of you need to better understand the importance of promptness before going into combat! You hear me?"

"Yes, Sergeant." Gomer murmured, resignedly joining Duke on the ground.

"As for the rest of you," Brooks turned back to the other men in the platoon. "Scout the surrounding area for spies. Take any and all prisoners you find. And no sneaking off into the bushes!" He frowned pointedly at Cocklin. "You knuckleheads must take me for an idiot! I know what sort of things you sad excuses for soldiers hide out there! Think I don't know about it, hey? Well, you're wrong! And if I catch any of you in your oh-so-secretive bushes, you'll get worse than pushups! Do I make myself clear?"

"Aye, aye, Sergeant!"

"Dismissed!" He turned back to Duke and Gomer. "I've got something special for you two! And when I get finished, you'll be sorry you ever saw my face! You and your damned, lazy excuses! How am I ever supposed to accomplish anything with such sorry-looking troops…" He stormed off, muttering angrily.

"He's wrong on one count." Duke panted to Gomer under his breath. "I'm already sorry I ever saw his face."

"This is terrible, Duke! Jus' terrible!" Gomer grunted in reply. "What's gonna happen to Hien an' Linh if one of the fellers finds 'em?"

"You told them to stay in the tent. Long as they do that, they'll be all right."

"I guess you're right." Gomer replied, his face still creased with worry.

"All right. Time for my lesson." Brooks huffed, returning to the men. He'd changed into a pair of roughshod hiking boots. Unceremoniously, he proceeded to put one foot on Duke's back and the other on Gomer's. "Keep going, and count out loud!"

"Four-ninety seven…four-ninety eight…four-ninety nine…" Duke called out as he repeatedly lowered himself to the ground.

"So, you're going to be cheeky, eh?" Brooks growled disgustedly. "Just for that, you can start over…both of you!"

The two Marines had no breath to sigh with as they began alternatively rising and falling, hauling half of Brooks' weight up and down like a couple of carousel horses.

"One…"

"One…"

"Two…"

"Two…"

"Three…"

"Three…"

"I CAN'T HEEAR YOU!"

Duke gritted his teeth. "Four!"

"Four!"

"Five!"

"Five!…"

-

Gomer had joined the rest of the platoon on the scouting mission a short while later, careful to keep a lookout for the two children in the area surrounding his tent. A movement in the trees directly ahead of him alerted him to the presence of another person not too far away. Quietly, he crept up on the figure and shoved his rifle into the other person's back. The figure shot up straight and tall while Gomer called out, "All right now. The US Marines got you now. You'd best come with me so's I don't got to shoot you."

The figure slumped and turned around. "Go-_mer!"_

"Duke!" Gomer smiled. "Goll-ly, I sure am sorry. I thought you was the enemy."

"Thanks a lot." Duke gingerly rubbed his back. "I already got the Sarge's footprint permanently engraved into my backside. You had to go poking your gun and agitate it!"

"I cain't even tell you how sorry I am." Gomer shook his head slowly. "I got me one, too, if you want to see it." He started to unbutton his shirt, but Duke held up his hand.

"Hold it. That's okay, Gome. I'm really not that curious." Duke smiled. "It's cool now, okay? Consider it number one and done with."

"Okay." Gomer grinned. "Ain't it about supper time now, anyways? I don't know about you, but I's gettin' awful hungry." He nodded toward their tent a few feet off in the distance.

Duke winked conspiratorially. "Yeah, you're right, Gome. Come to think of it, I'm getting pretty hungry, too."

To their luck, they arrived back in camp just as the mess sergeant was handing out rations. The two Marines quickly joined the end of the line and collected their food. Instead of sitting down on their helmets with the other men, however, they made a beeline for their tent and crawled inside.

"Hien? Linh? You still here?" Gomer whispered as Duke fumbled for a match in his pocket.

"Yes," came a small, frightened reply from the corner of the tent.

"We's got food now. You cain have some of our shares." Gomer groped in the darkness for their location and came across a tiny hand. "That you, Linh?"

"Yes," the girl whispered softly. She and her brother softly moved in the direction of the two Marines.

At that moment, Duke had finally got a hold of his matchbook and struck one, bathing the tent in a dim light.

Linh screamed. Duke roughly clapped a hand over her mouth while Gomer looked fearfully at the open flap of the tent.

"Quiet! Want those other guys to hear you? Want Sergeant Brooks to find you? Huh?" Duke waited for the girl to fervently shake her head before slowly pulling his hand away.

"Monsters!" Linh cried, hurrying for the protection of her brother. Hien waited for her to join him before throwing the blanket over both of their heads.

Duke hurriedly lit the lamp he'd set down by his pack before extinguishing the flame. He threw the burnt match toward the tent flap, where it hit Sergeant Brooks right across the nose.

Duke grinned weakly. "H-hi, Sarge. What're you doing here?"

"What in the Sam Hell was all that screaming for? And why aren't you sitting outside with the rest of the men?"

Gomer cleared his throat. "Scuse me, Sergeant. I've got a bug in my throat I'm tryin' to get out." He really did, one that had been caused by Brooks' sudden appearance.

"Pyle, you scream like a girl. Buck up!" Brooks eyed the two warily. "And you still haven't explained what you're doing in your tent!"

"What we're doing? Why, Sarge! What a silly question!" Duke feigned a laugh and turned to his friend. "Gomer, tell him what we're doing."

"Well, we're, uh, gonna…" Gomer wasn't about to tell a lie, but he didn't want to tell the truth, either. He flustered uneasily, fumbling with the buckle on his pack as he did so.

"What Gomer's trying to say is, we're unpacking. We haven't got a chance to yet, you know." Duke hurriedly emptied his pack, dumping the contents onto the dirt floor and turned to his companion. "Right, Gome?"

Gomer scraped at a mud spot on his boot and refused to meet Duke's gaze.

"Unpacking in the middle of dinner hour?" Still unconvinced, Brooks turned to the plates Gomer and Duke had set down by their feet, still untouched.

"We're multitasking. Getting twice the work done in half the time! That's how your mind works when you're an efficient Marine!" Duke took a spoonful of his meal, picking up one of his shirts and folding it at the same time.

Brooks looked from Duke to Gomer. "You too, Pyle?"

Gomer shrugged. "Well…"

"Him too!" Duke replied hastily.

Brooks snorted. "Listen here, and listen here good. I don't know what you two idiots have got up your sleeve. But I intend to find out! Much as you two hate to believe it, I ain't the world's biggest boob! And when I do figure you out, there'll be due punishment to go along with it!"

"Pushups?" Duke asked, smiling a little.

"Worse!" Brooks snarled. With that, he disappeared as quickly as he'd come.

Duke sighed in relief. "Whew! That was a close one!"

"Come on, Linh. What are you scared of?" Gomer had crouched down by the blanket, his voice pleading. "Cain't you two come out?"

"No!"

"Why not? Your food's getting cold." Duke pushed around his beans and ate another spoonful.

"M-monsters!" The girl wailed again.

"Where?"

"Gomer…" Duke had reached up to wipe his face and paused as he looked down at the dirty, soot-colored powder residue that came off on his hand. "I think she means us."

Gomer nodded and smiled. "You know what, Duke? I think you're right." He reached for his canteen and poured a little water out, splashing it over his face to clean it off. He turned back to the blanket. "You cain come out, guys. It's all right, now."

Hien tentatively pulled back the blanket, keeping his sister close. Gomer took the opportunity to grab a handkerchief and rub it over Duke's face. The gesture revealed his friend's pale skin beneath the grime. "See? It's jus' us."

The children breathed a collective sigh of relief. "You looked scary coming in." Hien murmured. "Like the men that burned down our house."

"We're real sorry for scarin' you like that. We'll try to remember to clean up a little bit better before comin' in here again." Gomer smiled.

"Okay." Hien threw back the blanket, revealing all of Lou Ann's letters to Gomer opened and sprawled across the floor.

"Hey! Those're my letters from Lou Ann! That's personal mail!" Gomer cried, quickly picking them up.

"They were in the way of the candy bars." Hien shrugged. "Do not worry. I cannot read."

"Who's Lou Ann?" Linh squeaked.

"She's my wife," Gomer murmured, matching the dates on the letters to the postmarked stamp on the envelopes, restuffing them in the rightful ones.

"Is she pretty?" Hien asked, interested.

"Pretty!" Duke laughed. For a while, he and Sergeant Carter had both been so enchanted by Lou Ann's beauty that they'd tried to outmaneuver and trick each other in an attempt to win over her affections. But in the end, it turned out that Lou Ann had had her eyes on someone else. Unbeknownst to them, she had already set her cap on Gomer.

"You wanna see a pitcher of Lou Ann?" Gomer took off his helmet and fumbled among the several possessions he kept stored in there.

"Yes! Yes!" The children clamored, forgetting their fear and sidling up to Gomer anxiously.

"Here. Careful now, this here'n is one of my favorite pitchers of her." Gomer slowly handed Hien the photo of Lou Ann straddling the cannon at Fort Fisher.

"Oh, she is very pretty!" Linh cried.

Hien whistled lowly. "It is true what they say…babes _do _dig American servicemen!"

Duke raised his eyebrows dubiously. "They teach you _that _on BBC radio?"

Gomer carefully restored the picture to his helmet and picked up his plate. "All right. Food's a little cold now, but that's all right. Duke, I'll share half my beans with Hien an' you cain share half of yourn with Linh."

"Half? But Gomer, the rations are already puny as it is!"

Gomer regarded his friend for a long while. "I done disapproved of what you done earlier, tellin' Sergeant Brooks a pack of lies like that. Shameful, shameful, shameful! Why, if he was to know you was lyin' straight to his face to cover up somethin' like this…"

_I'll get thrown out of the Marines with nothing to show for it but a dishonorable discharge. _Duke gulped and grinned at the little girl. "Here you go, Linh. Eat up."

Gomer smiled at his friend and nodded. Duke wasn't a bad person. In fact, he was one of the kindest people Gomer knew. All he really needed was a reproach for shameful behavior…and a little nudge in the right direction.

-

Later, Gomer and Duke had situated themselves for sleep that evening, lending several blankets and pieces of clothing to the children in an effort to provide a comfortable bed. Duke blew out the lantern and turned to his friend. "Night, Gomer."

"Night, Duke." Gomer turned to the blankets at the back of the tent. "Night, Hien. Night, Linh."

"Night, Gomer. Night, Duke." They replied in one voice.

Gomer settled back against his bedroll and dozed off into an easy, comfortable sleep.

He awoke some time later when he felt a tug at his metal dogtags. He turned in the direction of the pull. "Huh? Who's there?"

"Me." Linh replied in a small whisper. "I cannot go to sleep. I have bad dreams."

"Well, let's see what I cain do for you." Gomer fumbled for his flashlight and turned it on, rummaging around in his pack for something that would help the girl get over her insomnia. "You know, I used to have the same problem growin' up. I think it was prob'ly them spinach cookies I had ever' day after school that Gran'ma made me." He smiled. "They was purdy strange dreams, too. There was this one I had a lot, where I was fishin' with my gran'pa, an' Gran'pa got swallered up by a giant fish."

"A giant fish?" Linh giggled.

"See how silly nightmares cain be when you really think about 'em?" Gomer nodded encouragingly. "Welsh rarebit does the same thing! One time, I had it about ever' night an' I had these terrible nightmares about me hurtin' my old sergeant, Sergeant Carter's feelins, an' I would never have wanted to do that."

"Hey, what's going on here?" Duke rubbed his eyes tiredly, sitting up and checking his watch. "It's half past twenty four hundred." He frowned when he saw he'd aroused Hien, and Linh was sitting up by Gomer's pack wide-awake. "Look, if it's gonna turn into a slumber party, you can tell the kids to take a hike. _Now."_

"Linh, did you dream again?" Hien sighed sadly.

"Yes." She answered quietly. "I am sorry, brother. I fall asleep, and I see it all over again."

"See what?" Duke looked from Hien to Linh.

They looked at the floor sadly, not willing to say anything out loud.

"Oh." Duke sat back, realizing what she'd meant. He immediately felt bad for snapping at them earlier.

"Hey, here's the book Goober gave me for Christmas." Gomer pulled out the hardback copy of _Gone With the Wind _from his pack. "How about I read to the little fellers a bit? It always helped me go back to sleep when I had nightmares."

"Are you crazy?" Duke hissed. "The guy on guard duty catches us and the Sarge'll find out! And if the Sarge finds out, we're dead meat!"

"Don't worry, Duke. I'll only read a few pages. Hien an' Linh, they cain promise to be real quiet, won't they?"

They nodded silently in reply.

"An' I'll use the flashlight instead of the lantern. Won't be as much light that way." Gomer was already opening the book, turning to the first page.

"All right. But I claim no association with the party if we get caught." Duke grumbled, lying back down.

"_Gone With the Wind? _But what is gone? And what wind?" Hien asked.

"Yes, what is it about?" Linh asked eagerly.

"Well, it's about this girl that lives on this plantation house durin' the Civil War down in the South, an'…"

"What is a plantation?"

"Which civil war?"

"Where is south?"

Gomer smiled. "Well, if I answer all your questions, we'll be up half the night. How about if I jus' start readin' to you instead?"

The children nodded and settled in to listen to the story.

Gomer cleared his throat and began. " 'Scarlett O'Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were'…"

-

" '…Abel was a shrewd, grave giant, illiterate, kind of heart, older than most boys an' with as good or better manners in the presence of ladies. There was little snobbery in the Troop.'" Gomer looked up to find his listeners fast asleep. His reading had done the trick, after all.

He smiled and clicked off the flashlight, inserting one of Lou Ann's letters to mark the page at his spot before closing the book. "Night, you two." He murmured before going back to sleep himself.

-

Bunny and Lou Ann were crouched on the floor, facing each other. Between them, they were encouraging Vincent to walk the short distance from one to the other.

"Come on, Vinny. Come on. I know you cain do it!" Lou Ann cried.

Bunny slowly let go of Vincent's arms. He unsteadily took three steps in quick succession before falling forward into his mother's lap.

"Good job, Vinny!" Lou Ann kissed the top of his downy black head. "You're such a fast learner!"

At that moment, a light rap sounded at the door. Lou Ann checked her watch. "Quarter after thirteen hundred. Who could it be at this time of day?" She handed Vincent to Bunny and walked over to the door, peering through the peephole. She suddenly drew back, her face ashen. She turned around to Bunny. "I-it's Monroe!"

"Eeford?"

Lou Ann nodded. "Oh, Bunny, what do I do? What do I do?"

"Let him in, for starters." Bunny replied, reseating herself on the couch.

Lou Ann sighed, composing herself and turning around. She threw open the door with a flourish. "Why, Monroe! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Well, I just happened to be in the area and your father told me where you lived, so I decided to drop by." Monroe slowly sauntered inside, smiling down at Lou Ann in that self-satisfied way he always had before. Lou Ann suppressed a groan, closing her eyes. Would Monroe _ever _come to accept her as nothing more than a friend?

"Well, if you saw Daddy, then he surely told you I'm married now." She implied lightly.

"I know." His manner remained unchanged.

"Here," Lou Ann moved over to Bunny, who was still sitting on the couch. "I want you to meet one of my close friends, Mrs. Bunny Carter."

"How do you do?" Bunny shifted Vincent to her other shoulder and politely shook his hand.

"Fine, thanks." He turned to the baby she held and grinned. "And this must be baby Vincent! May I hold him?"

Bunny glanced over at Lou Ann, who nodded almost imperceptibly. She shrugged and handed him over. "Sure."

"You…you do know this is my son." Lou Ann slowly moved up alongside him to watch him admire the baby.

Monroe laughed. "Ever'one in Turtle Creek knows baby Vincent here. Your daddy's so proud of his little grandson! Why, he came back an' showed ever'one in town pitchers of the baby. He jus' can't get enough of it! When he showed them to me, he lost three buttons off his shirt! I swear, I'm beginnin' to think that J.R. cain't let anyone go two minutes without showin' them baby Vincent's pitcher."

"That's Daddy for you. He always gets carried away." Lou Ann smiled. "But I must warn you, Vinny's a bit of an attention-getter. He cain't stand it if he ain't in the center of the action!"

"Smart kid." He smiled at the baby. "You cain definitely tell he's Pyle's brat, all right. It's a pity he don't look more like you."

"Actually, I think he's the most adorable baby I could ever ask for." Lou Ann watched Monroe's face, looking to see if he was showing the resentment she heard in his tone.

"Oh, no doubt about that. He's got your cute charm." Monroe smiled down at Lou Ann. "How've you been, anyway?"

Bunny made a move to leave, but Lou Ann hastily motioned for her to stay. _Please, _she mouthed, _don't leave me alone with him._

Resigned, Bunny took a seat on the couch, where Monroe and Lou Ann soon joined her.

"Oh, all right." Lou Ann replied, taking Vincent from Monroe.

"I heard Pyle was in Vietnam. That's gotta be hard on you, Lou Ann. You holdin' up all right?"

Lou Ann shrugged. "I guess so. After all, it ain't like I never see him anymore. He's come home on leave twice already, an' we have a real steady letter correspondence." She turned to her friend. "Which reminds me to tell you an' Morgan somethin', Bunny! I got some wonderful news! You won't believe what else Gomer left me for Christmas!"

"Oh. Morgan's here?" Monroe asked pensively. Lou Ann's childhood girlfriend was weird. She'd always seemed a bit too liberal and carefree for his tastes. Shrugging it off and returning to what was said earlier, he sighed and shook his head. "I'm glad to see you've taken it so well. I don't see how any other little lady could be as loyal as you."

"Well, he _is _my husband." Lou Ann looked at him, puzzled.

"Would you mind if I stayed for dinner?" He asked suddenly.

Lou Ann shrugged. "No, not at all. Of course, I was plannin' on havin' Bunny an' Sergeant Carter over for dinner, but I guess I could set an extra place." She turned to Bunny. "You don't mind, do you?"

Bunny shook her head mutely. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Monroe. _I smell a rat!_

Monroe sighed and stood. "Well, I guess I'd better be off to my hotel if I'm to get settled an' back here in time for dinner."

"Wait." Lou Ann followed him. "If you're already packed, then there's no reason for you to leave. I wouldn't dream of havin' one of my old friends stayin' in a hotel when I cain bed him down here."

"Really?" Monroe smiled, then frowned. "What would Gomer say if he knew?"

"Gomer…" Lou Ann's eyes flashed. "Wouldn't think twice about lettin' you stay here, seein' as you're a friend of mine. In fact, he would have insisted on it. Where he comes from, it's an insult not to offer your Southern hospitality."

"Well then, on behalf of Gomer, I'm obliged to stay." Monroe set his bag down with finality. "Where do I stay?"

"Well, I guess you could sleep in Vinny's room…" Lou Ann's voice trailed off as she hurried back to the room in question. "I'll move Vinny's crib into my room an' get the cot out for you to sleep on." She turned and beckoned with her hand. "Bunny, cain you please come help me?"

Bunny quickly joined her, carrying Vincent. "What's up?"

Lou Ann ushered her inside Vincent's room and closed the door. "If I know Monroe, I'll bet anythin' he was countin' on stayin' here. He's up to somethin'. We got to keep an eye on him, Bunny."

Bunny sighed with relief. "Thank goodness you noticed it, too! He's awful sneaky. I should know. I've seen smooth guys like him try to make a pass at me."

Lou Ann nodded worriedly. "I know. We must be very careful."

"Bad!" Vincent squealed, indignant at being ignored for so long.

Lou Ann smiled her agreement. "I'm with you, Vincent. I'm with you."


	26. Lies, Lies, Lies

**Chapter 26**

_Lies, Lies, Lies_

Gomer and Duke, armed with their hot plates of rations, slowly moved over toward their tent, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. They'd made it halfway across the clearing when they picked up their pace. "In the clear," Duke murmured under his breath as Gomer lifted up the tent flap.

"HOLD IT!"

The two men sighed and turned around to face Sergeant Brooks. The sergeant had his arms folded across his chest, a smug, satisfactory smile on his face. "Second time in a row, boys. What in the Hell are you doing in that tent? And don't give me any more of your bullshit!" He held up a hand, silencing Duke. "You men stay out here. I'm checking the tent out alone. Probably got booze tucked away in there and are too stupid to hide it in the bushes like the rest of the men…"

"Wait! You cain't go in there!" Gomer stepped in front of the entrance, blocking Brooks' path.

"Pyle, get your gear back on!" Brooks snarled.

"But…"

"DO IT!"

Gomer hurriedly strapped his pack on over his shoulders.

"See that path right there?" Brooks pointed to an obsolete footpath covered with vegetation. "It's a ten mile loop through a DMZ. Take a hike!"

"Well, I'd like to, but maybe in a little bit, when I'll be feelin' better, an'…" Gomer's voice trailed off as he caught the angry gaze of his sergeant.

"I'm not asking you what you feel like doing, Pyle. I'M GIVING YOU AN ORDER! GO! DOUBLE TIME IT! MOVE MOVE MOVE!"

Gomer hurriedly leapt into a jog, striking off down the indicated path.

"Would you like to say anything before I take a looksie, Slater?" Brooks turned to Duke expectantly.

The corporal swallowed. "Yes, Sarge. I…" He stuttered nervously, sweating profusely. "I'd prefer a court martial over death."

"You would, would you?" Brooks smirked nastily and disappeared inside the tent.

Duke groaned, covering his face with his hands. "What have I done? _Oh, what have I done?"_

"Psst!"

Duke looked up to see Hien and Linh waving at him from behind a nearby shrub.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Duke cried, waving back. _Hide, _he mouthed, pointing at the tent. _Sergeant Brooks inside!_

"Aha! Just as I suspected!" Sergeant Brooks resurfaced, a chocolate bar wrapper pinched between his fingers. "You two have been sneaking off to finish your meals with candy bars from home!"

"I guess it's better you found out now than later," Duke replied, trying to keep a straight face. "We've got a…a _sweet tooth, _sir."

Brooks frowned, holding the wrapper centimeters from Duke's nose before crumpling it with his fist. "CONTRABAND!"

Duke winced, biting his tongue as he did so. It was better to let Brooks have his bit than speak up, especially if he didn't want to go on the same hike as Gomer.

"I oughta ship you back to the United States on a rail through Manchuria! You damned, lazy, good-for-nothing…" Brooks threw his arms up in the air, sputtering with inconceivable rage. "As it is, I'm short of men after that group of Charlies took us by surprise last night and the Pentagon's pressing me to quit sending out requests for more troops! Nixon and his 'Vietnamization.' He ain't over here! He can kiss my ass!"

"Sarge?" Duke gulped. "Just what are you going to do?"

"I'm giving you a warning. And if I ever catch you with contraband in your possession again…" His evil gaze bore into Duke, causing the corporal to tremble with fear. "It's OUT of the Marines for both you and Pyle!"

"Y-yes, Sarge." Duke murmured, perspiration flooding his face.

Sergeant Brooks grunted an unintelligible reply, stalking away without another word.

"Oh…" Duke collapsed into the tent. He felt like he'd been wrung through the wringer at the Dry Cleaners. He didn't even look up as he heard the two children reenter the tent from the back. "You know, you two buggers just about cost me my job."

"We are sorry." Hien looked down at the ground. "That man is very mean."

"You don't have to tell me!" Duke rolled his eyes. "He probably picks wings off of flies in his free time."

"Where is Gomer?" Linh asked.

"Taking a ten mile run through the DMZ." Duke smiled. "He's gonna be a while." He uncovered the two tin plates and set them on the ground. "But I do have his food. Just save a half for him, okay?"

"Okay!" The children eagerly delved in.

Time passed. Soon the children were finished and growing bored, yet neither was ready to commit to sleep. "Duke, can you read to us?" Linh picked up the novel from Gomer's pack and held it out to him.

Duke held up a hand. "Oh, no. I don't read heady romance."

"Please, Duke, please!" Linh pleaded.

"Yeah, we didn't even get to find out what happens when her father gets home!" Hien added eagerly.

"I said no. You can wait until Gomer gets back for that." Duke suddenly sat up, straining to hear what was going on outside. Sure enough, the faint cry of "Mail call!" reached his ears.

"Hot dog!" He cried. "Be right back," he called to the kids as he hurriedly made off for the cluster of soldiers outside.

"Cocklin…Cocklin…Lancaster…Newman…Pyle…"

"I'll take Gomer's mail!" Duke hollered from the back of the group. The letter was slowly passed back over the men's heads and eventually fell into Duke's hands.

The mail sergeant continued to call out names. "Steffens…Seward…Hughes…Lancaster…"

"YEE-HAW!" Will Steffens cried when he got a hold of his letter. "From Momma!"

Duke smiled and glimpsed at the envelope he held in his hands. Sure enough, Lou Ann's loopy handwriting graced the front. Gomer would be thrilled.

Mail call was the best time of the week. Morale that had dipped so low reached new highs among the embittered fighters once more as they became renewed with messages from their loved ones at home. It was a time of joy, of reminding oneself of why they were there, and of the people supporting them back home. Duke nodded. Without these mail days, they probably wouldn't still be here.

"…Newman…Steffens…Slater…"

"Here!" Duke called out, eager for his letter. Next to him, Will Steffens whooped as he read the return address on his second letter.

"YEE-HAW! From Fanny Maywater!"

Duke turned to him, mildly curious. "Sweetheart?"

"We did used to go a-courtin' together before I got drafted." Steffens smiled. "She's the fastest hog-tier in all of Clark County."

"Lucky you." Duke arched a brow and turned to catch his letter. "I've got a girl back home by the name of Morgan." He hurriedly opened the envelope and pulled out the letter inside, not even pausing to check the return address. He scanned its contents, his face falling.

"What's the matter, Corporal? What she say?"

Duke dropped the letter listlessly. "I've just been entered in a sweepstakes to win two million dollars."

-

"Here it comes, Vinny. Here comes the choo-choo train." Lou Ann murmured, steering the spoon full of peas toward her son's mouth. As Vincent laughed, she was able to set the food in his mouth. He closed it for an instant before scrunching up his face and spitting it back out.

Lou Ann sighed and wiped his chin with his bib. "Come on, Vinny. You'll like solid food. Please eat it for Mommy."

"Ma-Ma!" Vincent cried. He smacked his palms on the pea-covered high chair, immersing his hands in the sticky green goo.

Monroe laughed from the doorway and sauntered into the kitchen. "Poor Lou Ann. Need some help?"

"Well, Monroe…thank you for askin', an' normally I would take you up on your generous offer. But, well…frankly, Monroe, you jus' don't know nuthin' about children!" Lou Ann carefully replied, coloring slightly. "Specially this particular baby. He ain't at all like any other'n."

"Course he ain't. He's yours. That's what makes him dif'rent, doesn't it?" Monroe smiled and confidently took a seat next to her. Lou Ann inched away from him, her cheeks bright red with embarrassment.

"That's not exactly what I meant." Lou Ann replied. "Vinny here craves attention. He cain't stand bein' ignored." At that moment, an indignant cry sounded and a handful of mushy peas splattered against her cheek. "Like that," she added.

"Sounds like my kind of guy." Monroe smiled indulgently at the baby. "All right, sport. Feedin' time!"

He shoved the spoon in the baby's mouth. He tipped it up a bit, babbling in incoherent syllables. Slowly, he pulled the spoon back out. "Good job, little buddy!"

To Lou Ann's surprise, the baby swallowed and clapped his hands. "Ma-Ma!"

"Why, Monroe!" She exclaimed. "I've been tryin' to get him to eat all mornin'! How did you do that?"

He shrugged, leaning coolly against the kitchen table. "Just have a way with kids, I guess." He smiled at her and dared to move his chair a bit closer. "You know, I make a perfect catch for a young, widowed parent."

"Excuse me." Lou Ann hastily stood and began clearing the table. "My husband is in the war."

"And all's fair in love and war." Monroe murmured under his breath. He smiled slyly at his old girlfriend, who was hurriedly stacking dishes in the sink. "You mean your husband _was _in the war."

Lou Ann dropped the plates she was holding, where they crashed onto the floor at her feet. She hardly noticed them. "What do you mean?" She whispered breathlessly.

Monroe started in surprise. "You mean the sergeant didn't tell you? I thought surely, last night…" He shook his head sadly. "Well, maybe he's too upset about it himself to face you."

"What are you talkin' about?" Lou Ann's voice rose hysterically as she hastened to his side, clutching his sweater folds in disbelief. "What's happened to Gomer?"

"Gosh, Lou Ann. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…I saw one of those casualty report lists at the airport and Gomer's name was on it."

He bit back a smile as Lou Ann's horrified shriek pierced the room.

-

"Uh-oh," Vincent said, throwing his teething ring on the floor. After the episode in the kitchen, Lou Ann had disappeared into her room, overwhelmed with grief. Monroe had a feeling she wouldn't be coming out anytime soon.

He sat at his typewriter and slowly punched the letters. He wanted to be precise in his diction.

'_Dear Mrs. Pyle, we regret to inform you'…_ What came after that? Monroe thought long and hard before slowly typing the rest of the sentence. After all, Lou Ann wouldn't know any more than he did. It wasn't like she got this sort of letter every day.

"Bad!" Vincent squealed from the couch.

"Shh!" Monroe put a finger to his lips surreptitiously. "I pull this off right an' I might still be able to marry your mom!"

At that moment, the telephone rang. "I'll get it!" Monroe called, picking up the receiver. "Hello, that you, Joe? Yes, how many times have I said it before?" Monroe spoke in a hushed tone, not wanting Lou Ann to overhear from the bedroom. "Lou Ann Pyle wants a divorce. No, her husband's not here! He's in some ditch over in Vietnam!…Yes, one of those service cases. Can you work up a good settlement? You know, one that'll involve the husband as less as possible?…Great. I knew I could count on you…Fax it to me at my hotel room as quickly as possible, you hear?…No, Mr. and Mrs. Pyle are not going to be involved! We can forge the signatures!…Joe, you're not going to lose your job. Come on, we played football together! You can trust your old buddy…Besides, you know I'm paying you big bucks…yeah, that's what I thought. All right. Bye, Joe." Monroe hung up the phone.

"Bad!" Vincent wailed, pointing to the teething ring he'd thrown on the floor. Despite all of his bids for attention, Monroe wasn't playing with him. To the small child, it was the largest offense dealt him in the history of his short life.

Monroe just shot him an annoyed look. "Will you shut up? Gosh, it's a pity you don't look more like Lou Ann. No matter. Soon as Lou Ann's fine enough to part with you, I'll ship you off to boarding school. Then I won't have to see that silly mug of yours except on holidays. The education'll be good for you. Then, when you get older, you can go to college and play for the Carolina Ankies, just like your new daddy Monroe! Won't that be somethin'?" He grinned.

"Bad!" Vincent cried in reply, reaching helplessly for the discarded teething ring.

-

Lou Ann lay heartbroken on her bed, weeping inconsolably. She turned her head from time to time to look at the various photographs of Gomer that she'd moved from the top of the bureau to her bedside table. The most recent one stood at the forefront of the collection. It had been taken on Christmas Day. Gomer and Lou Ann sat close together on the couch, beaming at the camera, Vincent sitting in their laps. They'd been a happy, whole family then. Now they never would be one again.

A new wave of anguish crept over her and Lou Ann began sobbing hysterically once more. _He cain't be gone! He cain't be gone! He jus' cain't! I never even got to say goodbye! _She pounded the bed with her fists, angry with the world for taking away her beloved husband.

She blew her nose and gazed, heartbroken, at the innocent, happy and trusting look on Gomer's face in the photographs. "Oh, Gomer…you never should have went…I hope the end wasn't too painful…you deserved better…an' I'm sorry I let you go…I miss you!" She buried her head in her pillow, knowing with conviction that she would never love another man so much again.

-

Panting, Gomer reentered the tent and collapsed on the floor.

"How was your hike?" Hien asked.

"Terrible," he murmured, struggling to free his pack from his shoulders.

"Here, let me help you." Duke turned his hand to aiding his friend. "Letter came for you while you were out."

"From Lou Ann?"

"Yeah. That oughta cheer you up." Duke handed Gomer the letter, who somehow summoned strength enough to open it.

By the time he was finished reading, Gomer's grin had returned. "Goll-ly. Ain't she somethin'? Best little wife in the whole world."

"How's Vincent? Does she say anything about Morgan?" Duke clamored anxiously.

"No. Vincent's fine, though. Lou Ann's writ here that he cain walk three steps all by himself now, an' he's built up a bigger vocabulary. He's so smart, Vincent is. He'll have done growed up on me again next time I visit home." Gomer smiled proudly.

"Who is Vincent?" Hien asked.

"He's my son. He's eight months, one week an' three days now. Wanna see a pitcher of him? He's the cutest little thing." Gomer began digging around his pack in earnest.

"Really?" Linh bounced on her heels excitedly. "Let me see!"

"Here he is." Gomer pulled out a picture and handed it to them. "Careful, now. Those is some of his first pitchers."

Hien frowned. "This is your son? It does not look like a person."

Linh looked over his shoulder. "I draw people better than _that." _

Gomer laughed. "That's cause those are pitchers of him while he's still in Lou Ann's tummy. I told you those were his first pitchers." He located another photograph and pulled it out. "Here's a more recent one of him."

Hien smiled. "Now I can see a baby!"

Linh giggled. "He _is _cute!"

"Let me tell you, he jus' loves attention. He'll cry an' throw things an' misbehave till you give him your full attention. He's real lovey, though. An' smart, too!" Gomer nodded to the picture, fondly recalling his son's quirks.

Duke patted his back. "That's because he's got two parents who dote on him whenever they're around." When Gomer turned to him, he smiled. "It's because you love him, though. You guys are really terrific when it comes to raising that kid."

"Really? Thanks, Duke." Gomer gave him a small smile, pleased and a little embarrassed at the praise Duke willingly bestowed on him.

"Can you read us more of _Gone With the Wind?" _Linh asked, picking up the book from where she'd dropped it earlier.

"Why, sure I cain!" Gomer took up the book eagerly and opened it up. "Where were we when we stopped last?"

"Pa came home and told Scarlett that John Wilkes had let him in on the surprise engagement between his son Ashley and his cousin Miss Melanie that's going to be announced at the barbeque tomorrow." Hien replied.

"And Scarlett's mad because she loves Ashley." Linh added.

"Boy, you two are sure into it." Duke smiled in spite of himself.

"All right, now. Let me find the spot." Gomer traced his finger down the page until it came to rest at a certain paragraph. He cleared his throat and began. " 'She was goin' to say, 'when you haven't the man you want,' but Gerald, incensed by the cavalier way in which she treated his proffered gift, the thing which, next to Ellen, he loved best in the whole world uttered a roar.'"

Duke jumped to his feet and bawled in an Irish brogue, "Do you stand there, Scarlett O'Hara, and tell me that Tara – that land – doesn't amount to anything? Why, land is the only thing in the world worth working for, worth fighting for – worth dying for!"

The children giggled. "Is that the way Scarlett's pa really talks?" Linh asked.

"You may depend upon it!" Duke replied, grinning.

"That was great, Duke!" Gomer exclaimed. "I forgot how you done do all them voices so well. Say, I got an idear. How about while I read the book, you cain do the voices an' some of the motions like you jus' did?"

Duke waved off the suggestion and bashfully sat down. "Nah."

"Come on, Duke. We both seen the movie a hundred times at least, an' you do the best Rhett Butler I know." Gomer looked pleadingly at his friend before turning to Hien and Linh. "Sides, it would make the story a heck of a lot more interestin' for the kids."

"Please, Duke, please!" The children clamored, looking up at the corporal with such sad faces that he was forced to turn away.

"Oh, man." Duke bit his lip. "I'm weakening…"

"Don't you care about us?" Linh stuck out her lower lip and whimpered.

Duke shrugged in defeat. "Fine."

"Yay!" The kids cried, tackling him happily.

"Quiet!" Duke cried. "I'm only agreeing to do this because no man is strong enough to resist your shameless begging." He smiled and winked at them before his countenance became stern once more. "But I gotta warn you – Sergeant Brooks catches us, we're all as good as dead."

"Really?" Linh's eyes watered fearfully.

"No, he don't mean that." Gomer smiled at the girl. "What Duke really means is if we get caught, you two will prob'ly go to some orphanage, an' me an' Duke will get to go to a place called Fort Leavenworth."

"How long will you stay there?" Hien asked.

Duke shrugged. "Play our cards right and we could get out in five to ten months for good behavior."

"Duke!" Gomer reprimanded his friend before turning back to the kids. "The important thing is we're not goin' anyplace, an' we don't intend to, neither. You guys got nuthin' at all to worry about."

The children smiled, reassured.

"Pyle! Slater!" Sergeant Brooks' voice bawled as his shoulders descended upon their tent. Gomer slammed his book shut and stuffed it back in his bag, while Duke hurriedly threw a blanket over the two kids.

"Yes, Sergeant?" They asked simultaneously as he stormed into their tent and towered over them with his arms crossed.

"I could've sworn I heard some Irish yelling coming from this tent. And no excuses, or I'll put you on guard duty from now till eternity!" He smiled smugly.

"Uh, we were, well, the truth is…" Gomer started reluctantly, reaching into his pack for the book.

"We were listening to the radio!" Duke interjected. He pulled a small receiver out of his own pack. "You know, listening to the world news. Boy, those Irish field reports sure are exciting!"

Brooks appeared to not have heard him. He stared dumbly at the object Duke held in his hands. "A transistor radio?" He asked slowly.

"Something, er, wrong, Sarge?" Duke looked up into the sergeant's face searchingly.

"Damn right there's something! I'll tell you what!" Brooks stormed over to Slater and grabbed the radio out of his hands. "Contraband, that's what! Slater, what did I tell you about catching you with contraband in your possession again?!"

Duke shifted on the ground uneasily. "But Sarge…"

"SHUT UP!" Brooks yelled, sending Duke flat on his back with his ferocity. "Corporals are hard to come by, Slater, and I don't think Dum-Dum over there's ready for a promotion anytime soon!" He motioned toward Pyle before kneeling down next to him.

"You know how many corporals I've lost in this goddamned war, Slater? Three! Three corporals, all killed in combat." He spoke in a low, urgent tone that frightened his listeners into silence. "And if I go asking for a fifth, the Commandant will have my head! You want the ******* CIA around here, poking their noses into everything? Huh? Don't force me to do that, Slater. If you force me to kill you or discharge you, you'll be sorry you ever lived. So DO NOT LET ME CATCH YOU WITH ANY MORE CONTRABAND IN YOUR POSSESSION AGAIN! IS THAT CLEAR?!"

"Y-yes, Sarge. Perfectly." Duke gulped, grinning shakily.

Without another word, Brooks turned and abruptly stormed out of the tent.

"Whew!" Duke sighed. "What a trial! At least I don't think I can show him anything else offensive that could send him over the edge."

"Um, Duke?" Gomer's voice cracked unsteadily as he spoke up. "You forgot you got somethin' else that ain't general issue you got in your possession…an' mine."

"What?"

Gomer pulled back the blanket and gestured to the children wordlessly.

-

A knock on the door sounded just as Lou Ann was checking herself in the mirror. "Comin'!" She called as she straightened the yellow ribbon she'd pinned to the front for her heavy black dress. It would never have done for evening wear; it was far too conservative. The sleeves went all the way down to her wrists, which gave way to black gloves. Her collar fit snugly around her neck and the skirt fell all the way to just a foot or so above the floor underneath it. She wore black shoes and black stockings. Her blond hair was fastened with a black clasp at the nape of her neck. Sniffing and wiping her red-stained eyes once more, she composed herself and slowly strolled across the room and opened the door.

Bunny was standing out in the hall, looking over the headline of the morning's paper. " 'Kissinger says, 'peace is at hand.' Yeah, right." She muttered cynically. "And my name's Ed Sullivan." She looked up as the door opened. "Hey, Lou Ann! I just came up to give you your paper and…" She frowned, noticing her friend's attire. "Honey, what's wrong?"

Lou Ann's eyes flashed angrily. "As if you didn't know!"

"I don't." Bunny reached out to touch Lou Ann's shoulder, but it was hastily brushed away. "What's happened? Please tell me."

"Now I understand." Lou Ann glowered. "You want to hear it from me yourself, even though you know it's too painful for me to bear! An' I thought you were my friend!" she vainly tried to blink back her tears, but they came anyway. They were hot tears that stung her cheeks as they slid down her face. "You could've told me, but you couldn't! You had to let someone like Monroe tell me cause Sergeant Carter was too upset! He sure didn't look it last night when he was eatin' enough for ten men at dinner!"

Bunny's mouth flew open. "I beg your pardon! Now, look…"

"If you cain't be honest to me about somethin' so important, then we must not be friends at all! Goodbye!" Lou Ann slammed the door with all her might.

Bunny, incredulous and angered, stood in the silently for a moment. Then she began storming off back toward her apartment, shaking her head. It wasn't until she was halfway down the hall that she realized she'd forgotten to give Lou Ann the newspaper she was holding. Whirling around, she marched back up to the door and knocked on it brusquely. When Lou Ann opened it, Bunny slapped it into her palm. "HERE'S YOUR PAPER!"

-

"Of all the rude things to say…" Bunny muttered several hours later. She stood on the sidewalk, hugging her arms to her chest angrily against the cold while she waited for her husband to finish cleaning up after Tipper next to a nearby tree.

"See? What'd I tell you?" Carter groaned as he stood, napkin and trash bag in hand. "I _knew _I'd end up being the one cleaning up after that dog's crap! Oof!" He stumbled down the sidewalk, the arm holding the leash outstretched in front of him. Tipper was obviously ready to continue his walk, and the sergeant was helpless to stop him.

"Vince!" Bunny followed him, frowning in annoyance. "Have you even listened to a word I've said?"

"Yeah, sure, honey." Carter mumbled distractedly. "Look, why are you still talking about it, huh? I'm tired of listening to you rehash it over and over. What's bothering you?"

"It just doesn't seem like something Lou Ann would do." Bunny pondered thoughtfully. "She wouldn't be that mad at me without good reason. I just wish I knew what I'd done to upset her." She shook her head. The strangeness of the whole matter refused to cease troubling her. She strolled behind man and dog, quiet with contemplation. "No, Vince…she was _really _upset. I think there's been a death in the family or something. She was wearing that mourning dress, after all, and…" She stopped. The ribbon! It had stood out so starkly against the fabric of Lou Ann's dress that she couldn't help but remember seeing it! But that could only mean one thing. Her eyes narrowed at her husband's retreating back. "Vince…"

Carter sighed and rolled his eyes. Bunny always used that tone when she was angry with him. But he could only handle one unruly family member at a time, and Tipper was currently demanding all of his attention. "Look Bun, can't it wait?"

"I don't think so!" She barked angrily. "Is there something you haven't been telling me?"

Carter almost couldn't find the breath to answer as he struggled to keep up with Tipper down the sidewalk. "I knew you'd find out sooner or later. I tell you, I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?!" Bunny clenched her fists, her temper rising with each step she took. "Think how Lou Ann feels! I made myself look like a fool in front of her! Our terrible argument this morning could have been avoided if you'd only told me!"

"Look, I don't see what Lou Ann's got to do with it, but it ain't the end of the world!" Carter called over his shoulder as Tipper whipped him around a corner. "But here, I promise I'll fill the ice cube tray back up as soon as we get home!"

"Ice cube tray?" Bunny frowned in confusion. "What in the heck are you talking about?"

"Isn't that what you're talking about?" Carter breathed a sigh of relief as Tipper came to a halt, wanting to sniff out a nearby fire hydrant. "Look, I'm sorry, but my beer was too warm and I didn't want to miss the fight that was on, so I took the last ice cube without filling the tray back up! What's so wrong with that?" He shrugged at his wife angrily.

"You mean…you don't know anything about Gomer?" Bunny held a finger up, feeling she was on the verge of a major discovery.

Carter eyed her warily. "No. Why should I? That knucklehead's someone else's problem, not mine."

Bunny nodded. "I think I'm beginning to understand." She murmured.

"Look, will you please tell me what this is all about? Ahh!" He cried as Tipper took off with him again.

"As soon as we get home!" Bunny called anxiously, hurrying to keep up with her husband. "There's some funny business going on around here, and it's going to take us some sleuthing to get to the bottom of it!"

"Well, it's going to have to wait another turn around the block," Carter panted, hanging onto his service cap to keep it from flying off. "We just passed our apartment!"

-

Lou Ann hugged Vincent to her, crying sorrowfully. The letter she had just received in the post had confirmed Monroe's news. There was no denying it now. She was alone, a young widow with a child not nine months old. To her, the world had as good as ended.

"Oh, Vinny!" She sobbed, hugging him close. Her tears ran down her face so steadily that the hot drops cascaded onto the infant's head. "At least I still got you!"

"Ma-Ma!" The baby cried, his tiny palms reaching up to grab her ear.

"An' I wish you still had your daddy." She murmured, setting him on her lap mournfully. As she did so, she was arrested by his innocent gaze. His soft, baby brown eyes shone and sparkled with unaffected happiness. Gomer's eyes. Those same eyes had looked upon her before with so much love, kindness, concern, affection…and now those eyes would never look upon her again.

Her vision clouded with tears once more as she gently stroked her son's face. "Vinny, how am I ever gonna live without him?"

"Box?" The boy cocked his head to one side, smiling and laughing at his own cleverness.

Lou Ann was struck once again by Vincent's smile. Gomer's smile. That smile had always shown her the bright side of things, reassured her that everything was all right, showed her how beautiful the world was…she sighed and shook her head. The smile was infectious. Despite herself, she felt a grin tug at the corners of her mouth. "No, Vinny. We cain't live in a box."

"Wee!" He squealed, prompting Lou Ann to hug him once more. She nuzzled his hair. How dark it was! Gomer's hair. Lou Ann abruptly sat up. And if you situated one strand over his brow like so…she brushed the baby's curly locks forward until they fell over and to the right of his forehead. He was the spitting image of Gomer Pyle.

"Oh, Vinny!" She cried, enfolding him snugly in her arms. "Thank you, Gomer," she whispered softly. "Thank you for givin' me my darlin' baby boy." If she was able to see Gomer through her son growing up, perhaps she'd find a way to manage, after all.

Monroe had been watching from the hall, waiting for the right time to make his entrance. Feeling here was his chance, he cleared his throat and ambled into the living room. "I'm sorry, Lou Ann."

Lou Ann quickly stood, dabbing her eyes as she did so. "Don't be, Monroe. It ain't your fault, after all." A few stray strands of her hair had escaped the clasp and fell forward against her cheek. Intrigued, Vincent reached up and latched onto them with his fingers. Lou Ann smiled down at him waveringly. "It's jus'…it's so hard…I don't know what to do…"

A beam of afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating this scene. Lou Ann appeared so fragile and vulnerable as she tried desperately to put on a brave face for her child. Confident that what she wanted was comfort, Monroe stepped forward and put his arms around her. To his delight, she leaned against him. "There, there, Lou Ann," he murmured in her ear. "It's all right. I'm there for ya."

Feeling as small and helpless as a child, Lou Ann gratefully clung to his support.

-

"I think the little guy's asleep now." Monroe peered into the crib where Lou Ann had just set Vincent down.

"Thank you for all of your help, Monroe. You have been most kind." Lou Ann quietly replied. "If you'll please excuse me, I think I'll turn in early." She turned to leave, but Monroe put out a hand to stop her.

"Believe me, Lou Ann. The worst thing you can do in a time like this is shut yourself away from ever'one else. It only prolongs your grief. Gomer wouldn't have wanted you do _that."_

"Well, I guess you're right." She shrugged listlessly and moved out to the living room where she plopped heavily down on the couch.

"Maybe there's a good movie on tonight." Monroe turned on the television, careful to keep the volume low so as not to disturb Vincent. Instead of a movie, he found a news report. Shrugging, he sat down on the couch next to Lou Ann.

"…Yesterday, seventy Brazilian political prisoners were released in Santiago, Chile. No word has yet been heard on the fate of their leader, Giovanni Enrico Bucher. And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming."

Monroe put his arm up on the back of the couch in Lou Ann's direction.

_What on earth does he think he's doin'? _Lou Ann threw a nervous glance in his direction and uneasily inched away. She focused intently on the flickering television, glad for the provided distraction.

"…Tonight's movie showcase is brought to you by Beneficial Finance Company, the loan company that gives you great money at great values. Because at Beneficial, you're good for more. And now, back to _Godzilla's Revenge!"_

A lump rose in Lou Ann's throat. This was the very film she and Gomer had watched on their first night in Wilmington together as a married couple. Gomer… Then, it had been his arm around her as they'd watched the ending together, which she had ruined for him. Everything had been so simple, so new, so exciting then. Then, they had thought they would be together for a long time to come.

Monroe noticed her sadness and wondered what a fake monster could do to make a woman cry. "Say, what's the matter, Lou Ann? Film too scary for ya?"

Lou Ann shook her head, reaching for a tissue. "It…it ain't that. Actually, well…Actually, Godziller was Gomer's favorite movie monster. He always loved monster movies!"

"Lou Ann, I'm sorry…I didn't know Gomer was partial to Godzilla. Here, how about if I find another movie?" Monroe got down on his knees and started turning the dial.

"No, no thanks, Monroe. I…Actually, I think I'm ready for bed." She stood and hurried for the comfort of her room.

Monroe grinned excitedly as cowboys and Indians became clear on the screen. "All right, a John Wayne pitcher! Go, go, go, Duke!" He bounced up and down on his heels in time with the horses galloping across the screen, as if he were a young boy imagining himself as the movie's hero.

Lou Ann closed the door, grateful for the privacy her bedroom provided. She breathed a sigh of relief and hurried into the bathroom to get dressed for bed.

When she came back out and pulled back the covers, the reality hit her like a ton of bricks. Gomer's side of the bed was made. That wasn't unusual. Since he was away, his side of the bed had been made for days. But from here on out, it would never be unmade again. No longer would she have the late-night comfort his embrace provided, feel his warm breath on her ear as the sun peaked over the horizon or his kiss on her cheek coupled with "Good mornin', Lou Ann," as he rose at oh-six hundred on the dot. All of it was gone forever.

Feeling her loss more keenly than ever before, Lou Ann threw herself on the bed in a fresh well of tears. She pounded her fists against the mattress angrily. Why, oh, _why _did life have to be so unfair?

"Gomer…" She trembled as she sat up, speaking to one of the pictures she'd left on the nightstand. "Why did you leave me? Why did the Lord have to take you so soon?" Overwhelmed, she buried her face in the pillows and cried even harder.

By this time, Monroe had realized that Lou Ann was no longer in the living room with him. He moved to her bedroom door and tentatively knocked. "Lou Ann? You okay in there?"

"Please go away, Monroe!" Lou Ann cried, too distraught to put up with her guest.

Despite her protest, Monroe entered the room. "You sure don't sound okay." He murmured.

Lou Ann gasped, shocked and surprised that Monroe would intrude on a lady's privacy. She hurried over to the door and grabbed her wrap, clutching it to her protectively. It was downright improper for Monroe to her so…_underdressed. _"You've done enough for one day, Monroe." She breathed. "You ought to know better than to invade a lady's privacy."

"I know." Monroe averted his eyes sheepishly. "I jus' hate to see you so upset, that's all."

"I jus' lost my husband, Monroe. I cain hardly be expected to be fine." Lou Ann replied quietly.

"I can make it better, Lou Ann." Monroe met her eyes boldly. "I ain't Gomer, but I do still love you. I never stopped, you know."

"Uh-huh." Lou Ann turned to avoid his gaze, clutching the wrap even more tightly around her. "Please, Monroe. Cain't it wait till mornin'?"

"Somethin' this important can't wait, Lou Ann." Heedless of how frightened he was making her, he slowly took a few steps in her direction. "Face it, Lou Ann. You ain't in any condition to raise that kid on your own with the pay you get from the record store."

"Actually, I am still on maternity leave till next month," Lou Ann murmured ruefully.

"You're gonna kill yourself tryin', an' I'd hate to see somethin' like that happen to someone I care for so much." Monroe was upon her now, a hand on her arm.

Lou Ann trembled. She didn't know what she was going to do. She felt like screaming, running away, crying, or a combination of all three. But when she turned to face him, she could do no more than emit a low whimper. Monroe's gaze bore intently into hers as he gripped her shoulders firmly. She tilted her head back in an effort to pull away, but Monroe only held her closer.

Her breath came in short gasps, leaving her feeling as if she had no control over anything whatsoever. Her head swam as she fought to regain her bearings. Her hands reached up instinctively, but Monroe only caught them with his own and brought them back down to her sides. She felt a sharp pang in her abdomen and her lips quivered uncertainly. She'd never been so afraid in her whole life.

And before she knew it, Monroe had kissed her.

-

" '…The Yankees were comin'. The army was leavin'. The Yankees were comin'. What should she do? Where should she run? No, she couldn't run. There was Melanie back there in the bed expectin' that baby. Oh, why did women have babies? If it warn't for Melanie, she could take Wade an' Prissy an' hide in the woods where the Yankees could never find them. But she couldn't take Melanie to the woods. No, not now. Oh, if she'd only had the baby sooner, yesterday even, perhaps they could get an ambulance an' take her away an' hide somewhere. But now – she must find Dr. Meade an' make him come home with her. Perhaps he could hurry the baby.'" Gomer closed the book and set it back inside his pack. "All right. That's enough for tonight."

The children groaned with disappointment. "Don't we even get to find out if Scarlett gets the doctor or not?" Hien pleaded.

"You will. Tomorrow." Gomer promised him. "Now, good night." He nodded to Duke, who blew out the dim lantern.

"Gomer, was your family Confederates?" Linh asked quietly.

Gomer slowly sat up. "My great-great-granddaddy Drayton was killed fightin' on the side of the Confederacy." He whispered in reply.

"Do you still hate the Yankees?"

Gomer smiled. "Naw. That war happened a long, long time ago. My best friend Duke, he's a Yankee." He nodded over at his friend.

"How come you're not mad? If they killed your family, and destroyed all those homes…"

"Now I see what this is all gettin' at. You're wonderin' if you'll ever be able to forgive what the soldiers did to your parents an' your village. That right?"

Linh nodded silently.

Gomer beckoned with his hand. "Why don't you come over here for a minute?"

She smiled gratefully and plopped down in front of him, looking up at the Marine expectantly.

"You been through an awful lot, Linh." He murmured, gently stroking her hair. "An' that's too much for a purdy little girl your age. But all I cain tell you is somethin' I've learned that's done helped me." He smiled sadly. "You got to forgive the past in order to claim your future."

"Forgive?" She cocked her head questioningly.

Gomer nodded. "Uh-huh. An' it ain't gonna come easy. But when you cain let it go, you feel a heck of a lot better."

Linh smiled. "I understand. Thank you, Gomer." She stood and hugged him before returning to lie down with her brother.

Several minutes passed in silence before Duke rolled over on his side and turned to Gomer. "Kids asleep?"

"I think so." Gomer quietly replied. "What's goin' on, Duke?"

Duke glanced around surreptitiously before turning to Gomer, his eyes bright. "There's a wild rumor flying around camp that the war could be over soon!"

"Shazaam," Gomer breathed excitedly. "What makes you say that?"

"The Nixon administration gave the armed forces generals over here the heads up. Kissinger is in Paris negotiating a deal with the NVA right as we speak! A staff sergeant overheard the briefing and has been spreading the word among the enlisted ranks since. I heard it today."

"Go-oll-ly!" Gomer cried happily. "That is good news! Wait till Lou Ann finds out I'm comin' home soon, for good this time!"

"Shh!" Duke cried. "You can't tell anyone! It's a federal secret. Real hush-hush. Even _we're _not supposed to know about it."

"Oh, right." Gomer nodded. "Well, it's still good news, anyhow."

"We've got a problem, though." Duke gestured to the blanket. "If we're pulling out soon, what are we going to do about _them?"_

"Goll-ly." Gomer murmured worriedly. "I hadn't thought about that yet."

-

Almost as soon as Monroe had kissed her, Lou Ann was able to pull away from his grasp. She shrank back and slapped him across the face as hard as she could. "Don't you dare do that again!"

Monroe had a hangdog expression on his face as he gazed down at her. "Aw, come on, Lou Ann. Gomer can't get between us now."

"Whether he is here or not, that liberty is still reserved for him alone." Lou Ann's eyes flashed angrily. "Get out, Monroe! Get out an' go to bed!"

Shaking his head, Monroe reluctantly did as he was told.

Lou Ann collapsed against the door as it closed behind her. She held her head in her hands, panting heavily. Why had she let him do that? Why did he kiss her? He was messing with her brain, her emotions, and she didn't like it one bit.

"I'm sorry, Gomer," she murmured brokenly before slowly crying herself to sleep.

-

"No longer newbies, eh?" Lieutenant Shrenk sauntered by and glanced at Duke and Gomer appraisingly. "You guys cleaned up all right."

"Clean up? We just woke up!" Duke protested. They were both still dressed in nothing more than their combat pants and dogtags. The two were still groggy and disoriented from sleep. They both still sported patchy night-old beards from the evening before.

"Yeah, it's nice. Got a kind of ruddy look to you now. More worldly." Shrenk grinned and pulled a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket. "Gettin' wise, eh?" He chuckled. "Maybe you two'll do all right, after all." He glanced passively at the box in his hand before holding it out. "Want a smoke?"

Gomer shook his head. "No thanks, Shrenk. We don't smoke. But thank you for the offer anyway."

"Hey, it's all on the number one." Shrenk pocketed the cigarettes and sat down on the ground beside Gomer and Duke. He took a long draw, watching the smoke dissipate in the steamy morning air before turning to them. "So, my boys, how's Brooks been treating ya?"

Duke grunted. "As well as can be expected. That guy's sure one grumpy old man." He picked up a rock and threw it into the simmering campfire.

"Now Duke, that ain't very nice." Gomer shook his head reprovingly at his friend. "Sergeant Brooks jus' ain't very friendly, is all."

"Easy for you to say," Duke murmured. "He didn't threaten you with a trip to Manchuria." He grimaced, thinking over his last conversation in the tent with his sergeant.

Shrenk laughed softly. "Brooks is one hard-nosed son of a gun."

"You're his superior officer. What do you think makes him so ruthless?" Duke turned to the friendly lieutenant imploringly.

Shrenk shrugged. "He's got no kids, no wife. Too old to be over here, but he volunteered. Was a private in Korea. God, you'd think one war would be enough for a man." He sadly shook his head. "Sometimes I think the guy ain't human."

"You think?" Duke snorted. "I _know!"_

"Well, it's rough out here, you know? Tough enough stayin' alive, let alone prove your worth. Man," he whispered softly, shaking a few sparks from his cigarette.

Duke glanced at the man sitting next to him and shook his head. He could hardly believe that the lieutenant was seven years younger than he and Gomer. The war had considerably aged him. Though only twenty-six, he could pass for a man of fifty.

Gomer was apparently thinking along the same lines. He concentrated intently on the sky, counting silently with his fingers. He turned to the lieutenant with a start. "Shrenk…if you don't mind my askin'…did you go to OTS soon as you was old enough?"

Shrenk nodded grimly. "On my eighteenth birthday, my dad sent me off as a birthday present. Paid it all the way through and everything. Didn't cost me a cent. It wasn't what I would have chosen, just what I expected, I guess. Dad landed on Normandy with the rest of the Allies in Forty-Four, and wouldn't let anyone forget it. I guess everyone always thought I was gonna follow in his footsteps. I'm sorry I ever did." He threw his cigarette down on the ground, crushing it with his foot. "Dad was always telling me how glorious war was. How it was your test to prove you were a man. That's why he sent me through OTS. I wish Dad could see what I have. War ain't anything like he said it would be. The tally getting bigger every day, the numbers under me dwindling. Men just wasting away, destroying themselves for someone else's ideas. I see all that and I can't help but think _why in the _Hell _am I over here?" _He shook his head hopelessly and turned to Gomer and Duke, angry to see them staring at him.

"What? Ain't you ever seen a condemned lifer before?"

Gomer and Duke quickly averted their eyes, not daring to say a word.

"Even after I get out of this **** war, I'll still be 'responsible old Lieutenant Shrenk,' making inspections of bases or sitting at some desk poring over mundane paperwork. But I'll do it, all right. And I'll tell you one thing." His glare bore into Duke and Gomer until they were forced to meet his angry blue eyes. "No matter what I take with me out of Vietnam, I ain't gonna turn into a bloody Hitler like Brooks! You can bet your lives on that."

Gomer and Duke hastily nodded in agreement.

Shrenk stared bleakly into the fire for a few minutes, trying to cool his flared temper. Gomer aimlessly drew a circle in the mud with his foot, contemplating what the lieutenant had said. Never before had he seen a man so resigned to his fate. Duke shuddered. Maybe he should rethink his ambitions to become a commissioned officer.

Once more regaining his cool, Shrenk looked up over at the other end of camp, from which loud shouts were suddenly issuing forth. "Hello. What's this?"

He stood and slowly strolled over to the other end of the camp. Duke and Gomer followed.

"Hey, Redman! What the hell happened to the Wagon, huh? What you do, stick your tommyhawk in him?" Walker Hughes kicked PFC John Redfoot in the shin, causing him to spill his plate of c-rations all over the ground. The man said nothing. He only went to his knees and hurriedly tried to salvage what he could of his breakfast.

"Come on, you injun! What you do to the Fargo Wagon, huh?" By this time, others had joined Hughes in heckling their comrade. One forcibly pushed him away, and was taken by surprise when Redfoot pushed him back.

"Ooh," The guys laughed at him. "What you gonna do, injun? Scalp me?"

"Lay off." Redfoot murmured quietly, turning away from the scene.

"What you say, injun?" Hughes called threateningly. "Gonna go cry in your wigwam now?"

Redfoot turned around. "I said, lay off!"

"Kay. That's the way you want it, that's the way you're gonna get it." Hughes glanced coolly over his shoulder and nodded. The men standing behind him rushed forward and pounced on the Native American, swinging punches left and right.

"Get off!" Redfoot cried.

"Come on, injun! Call on your tree god to help you out! What about your sky god, huh? Where's he at?" The men cackled with glee as they continued to assault him.

"Holy crap," Shrenk murmured. He gestured over his shoulder for Gomer and Duke to cover him, running into the fight to try to break it up.

Shrenk, Gomer and Duke quickly began pulling guys off of the private, shouting to them desperately.

"For God's sake, stop!"

"Hold it, fellers! Jus' hold it now!"

"Come on, you guys! Be cool! Be cool!"

When they'd finally separated the men to their neutral corners, Gomer gently helped John Redfoot to his feet.

"You okay, John? You hurt real bad? Need to go see the bac si?" Gomer helped the private sit down, glancing worriedly at the man's scrapes and bruises.

"I don't know what the hell happened to Private Fargo! He snuck off last night and I ain't seen him since! And that's the truth, you hear?" He glared at his attackers, gingerly holding his busted nose. He gratefully accepted the handkerchief Gomer offered him. "Thanks, Gome. You're a pal."

"I jus' got one thing to say about all this." Gomer shook his head. "Shame, shame, shame! You fellers ought to be ashamed of yourselves! What a mean thing, what a mean thing to do!" He frowned up at each of the men. "Attackin' one of your Marine brothers like that! There jus' ain't nuthin' lower than that! Shame, shame, shame!"

"ALL RIGHT! JUST WHAT IS THE MEANING OF ALL THIS?!" Lieutenant Shrenk stood menacingly over everyone else, glaring at the bloodied men that had attacked PFC Redfoot. He regarded them contemptuously, his face flushed red with anger. At that moment, he exuded more wrath than even Sergeant Brooks. "NO WONDER THE CHARLIES ARE SO STRONG NOW! WE'RE TURNING ON EACH OTHER! WE'LL NEVER GET OUT OF HERE WITH BEHAVIOR LIKE THAT! NOW, KNOCK IT OFF!" He gestured for Walker to come join him, pulling a dirty pad of paper and a pencil from his combat pants.

"Name, rank, and serial number please, Private." He murmured, flipping to a clean page. In one moment, he had gone from outraged to calm and controlled.

"Private Walker Hughes, two two five, two five nine seven." He murmured meekly, twisting his red knuckles about in embarrassment.

"The rest of you sorry bastards can come up here and join him." Shrenk said flippantly. "Give me your information and I won't detain you a moment longer."

One of the other privates stepped forward. "Say, what do you need our names for, anyway?"

"I'm taking your names and presenting them to Colonel Hanson along with an eyewitness report of you beating this man." Shrenk nodded at Redfoot.

"Make us, Baby John." A grizzled vet leaning against a nearby tree sneered at the lieutenant.

Shrenk flushed red at the name. "Now, look here!" He began firmly. "I'm your CO around here and until you leave or are transferred, you are under my command and you will do as I say!"

"Shrenk…" Gomer murmured, gesturing to the edge of camp. "What about the Charlies? They ain't supposed to know…"

"Let the Charlies shoot me for all I care! They're the least of my worries!" He turned back to the men, eying them haughtily. "I could slap a general court martial on you so fast it would make your head spin. Let this serve to remind you who's boss around here. I don't give a hoot about age. You respect your rank…" He glanced down at John Redfoot. "…_and _your fellow man."

He stormed off in the opposite direction a few yards before turning around. "Brooks was right!" He hollered. "You've got to be the sorriest excuses for soldiers I ever seen!" He spat on the ground in their direction before stalking off toward the officers' tents.

During the whole scene that had just unfolded, Gomer had failed to notice that Duke had ambled off. Now, he looked around, searching for his best friend. "Duke? Where'd you go?"

"Over here!" A hand appeared behind a shrub not too far away. "Guys, I found Fargo!"

Gomer and the others hurried over in Duke's direction. They stopped short when they caught sight of Fargo. He was gripping Duke for dear life, a disturbing haziness in his eyes. He smiled at the group and attempted to wave. "Hey, buddies!" He yelled, even though the men were in whispering range.

"He's high," Duke explained curtly. "I found this in his pocket." He slapped a small, paper-rolled joint in Gomer's palm.

"What's this?" Gomer turned the small object over in his hand. "I ain't never seen one of these newfangled things before."

Duke sighed in exasperation. "Gome, don't you know _anything? _You smoke marijuana through that thing!"

"Really?" Gomer held it up to the light, studying it intently. "What do they need a contraption like this for? There's pipes, an' those always smell nice. Gran'pa Pyle smokes a pipe. An' back home, when a lot of people used to take a bit of snuff, they'd jus' pinch it an' snuff it up their noses. They don't need no paper things. But I never did approve much of pinchin' snuff, though. People get to doin' it too much, an' it does somethin' terrible to your nostrils."

"Get with the twentieth century, Gomer!" Duke groaned. "Weed's the new form of snuff!" He turned resignedly to Private Fargo. "Why'd you do it, Jim?"

"Feel better…" He laughed, as if he had just made a funny joke. He fell on his back, shaking with laughter. "Man, you were _right!" _He pointed in the direction of Private Seward, who looked just as wasted as Fargo.

"You fellers need help," Gomer said quietly. It was a statement, not a question.

"This is stupid! What were you thinking? You can't meet the Charlies like this!" Duke cried.

"Aw, to Hell with the Charlies!" Fargo tried waving Duke away, but ended up slapping the corporal across the back of the head.

"You may not care about the Charlies," Duke murmured, rubbing the sore spot. "But Sergeant Brooks will give you a reason to be scared!"

"Brooks? Where is that dirty bastard? I'll shoot his bleedin' eyes out." Fargo reached for the M-16 rifle laying a few feet away, but Duke quickly snatched it out of reach.

"I forgot to search him for weapons." Duke mumbled. He turned to the men. "Will some of you guys hold him down while I look?"

Gomer pocketed the joint device and reached out to hold down one of Fargo's arms. "It's all right now, Jim. We's jus' helpin' you is all. Number one, remember?"

"Better than one," he murmured. "More like one million!"

"Duke…" A distraught look crossed John Redfoot's countenance as he glanced up from where he was holding down Seward. "Drain-o's got the goods. Must trade in it." He held up several plastic bags full of different colored powders.

Duke sighed. "Better take it straight to Colonel Hanson. He's a cool guy, and he'll definitely handle it a lot better than the Sarge ever would."

Gomer shook his head. "Shame, shame, shame." He looked worriedly over at Duke. "What is goin' on, Duke? The fellers is all comin' to pieces."

"The war's gettin' to 'em, Gome." Duke replied grimly, turning all of Fargo's pockets inside out. "The thing is, we can't let it get to us."

"Duke…what about them peace talks?" Gomer whispered, a cold chill creeping over his skin.

Duke closed his eyes, fatigue washing over him. He reveled in it for a moment before opening his eyes and replying quietly, "NVA isn't budging on any of the terms. Last I heard, all negotiations had broken off."

Gomer sighed. "Then there's no tellin' how much longer this will go on."

"No, Gome." Duke brusquely began resuming his search of Fargo's person. "There certainly isn't."


	27. The Truth Shall Make You Free

**Chapter 27**

_The Truth Shall Make You Free_

Bunny held the stepladder against the side of the apartment, glancing around the drafty alleyway nervously. "Hurry up, Vince! They might be home any second!"

Carter hurried over to the window and frowned down at his wife. "SHUT UP, WILL YA?"

"Found anything yet?"

"NO! NOW STOP PESTERING ME!" Carter turned and began searching the house once again. Monroe _had _to have left _something_ that revealed some sort of funny business! He opened a drawer and quickly sifted through the papers. He didn't feel bad about going through the Pyles' personal belongings. Besides, he was looking for something belonging to Monroe. He had been willing to do whatever he could to expose the rat for what he really was. There was something indefinable about Monroe that Sergeant Carter just didn't like. Maybe it was the fact that Monroe was more handsome and physically fit.

"Lou Ann?" A key turned in the door and Morgan Valentine stepped inside. "You home?"

Carter froze. He'd forgotten that Lou Ann had given her friend a spare key to the apartment.

Bunny heard the voice and took away the ladder, folding it into smaller sections before running out into the street.

Carter rushed the window, only to see his wife hurrying away. _"Bun-ny!" _He hissed. Now how was he supposed to get out?

"Lou Ann?" Morgan closed the drawer Carter had opened only a few moments before and slowly started wandering through the house.

He'd have to hide. Carter made a beeline for the closet and quietly closed the door behind him.

Morgan stopped at the open writing desk, which had been thrown open. Papers once neatly stored inside lay strewn across the floor. She gasped and whirled around, expecting to find a masked man behind her. _There's a burglar in the house!_

Carter turned, trying to get his bearings in the dark closet. Was there anything in here he could use to help conceal himself?

Morgan entered the bedroom and stopped short as she saw the closet door rattle. Slowly, she made her way toward the door, grabbing a nearby paperweight and holding it above her head as a weapon. "I know you're in there." She called shakily, slowly reaching for the handle. Inside, Carter pulled a sock over his head and threw one of the closest coats over his shoulders.

Morgan slowly pulled back the door. When greeted by the sight of the somewhat masked Sergeant Carter, she screamed. Carter yelled back, ducking as she threw the paperweight in his direction.

He crouched over protectively, scurrying toward the door. Morgan followed, hitting him with any object she could find.

Reaching the doorway, he straightened and ran for his life. Morgan stood panting in the doorway. "And good riddance to you!"

Carter was halfway to the elevator when he suddenly remembered it was broken. Turning around, he made his way past the apartment again over to the stairs at the opposite end of the hall.

"Goodbye again!" She called at his retreating form.

Stepping back inside, she looked up the number of the Bluebird Café and picked up the phone. Her best friend ought to know about this right away.

-

"…so there I was, standing at the thirty yard line, this _massive _guy on the other team covering me, and I don't think there's any way possible Steve can throw me the pass. Well, son of a gun, would you know that's just what he did?" Monroe laughed.

Lou Ann rested her head against her palm on the other side of the table. She'd been listening to Monroe's football stories all night. It seemed whenever they went out, all he ever talked about was himself. Vincent, quickly tiring of it, had fallen asleep half an hour ago. Lou Ann was more than ready to do the same.

Before Monroe could continue, however, a waitress approached their table. "Phone call for you, Lou Ann."

"Thank you." Lou Ann stood, grateful for the distraction, and shot a passive glance at Monroe. "Will you excuse me? I'll only be a minute."

She didn't wait for his reply as she entered the phone booth at the back of the diner and closed the door behind her. No matter who was calling, she'd linger over it as long as she could. _Anyone _would be more diverting than Monroe! Smiling, she picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Lou Ann?"

"Morgan?" She frowned. "What's wrong?"

"You gotta come home right away. Someone just broke into your pad."

Lou Ann's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, my! Don't worry, Morgan. I'll come as soon as I cain!" Quickly, she replaced the receiver and practically ran back to her table.

"Well, that didn't take too…Lou Ann?" Monroe looked up at her in confusion as she bundled Vincent up, grabbing her own coat and pulling it on as fast as she could.

"I'm sorry, Monroe, but we'll have to cut the evenin' short. Urgent business calls me home. I do hope you'll forgive me?"

Monroe shrugged. "I guess so. I'll swing by a little later, okay?"

Lou Ann nodded absently. "That will be fine, Monroe. I'll see you later." Gathering up her son in her arms, she ran out onto the sidewalk and waved down a cab.

Monroe waited until she'd disappeared from sight before whistling a tune and tapping his plate with a fork. A man got up from an obscure seat at the opposite end of the diner and walked over to him. "You give the signal?"

Monroe smiled and gestured to the empty seat. "Sit down, Joe. Make yourself comfortable. I believe we have a settlement to discuss."

-

" '…Through the window, in the faint light of the risin' moon, Tara stretched before her, Negroes gone, acres desolate, barns ruint, like a body bleedin' under her eyes, like her own body, slowly bleedin'. This was the end of the road, quiverin' old age, sickness, hungry mouths, helpless hands pluckin' at her skirts. And at the end of this road, there was nuthin' – nuthin' but Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton, nineteen years old, a widow with a little child.'" Gomer closed the book. "That's all for tonight, now. It's gettin' late."

"She lost _everything." _Hien murmured in awe. "How does she ever live with it all?"

Gomer studied the book in his hands, tracing the title with his finger. "Well, Scarlett's left with practically no options left so she does the best she cain. She jus' looks ahead an', well…start all over again, I guess."

"Her old way of life was destroyed by the fires and the war and Sherman's army. All of it has gone with the wind!" Linh cried. "I get the name now!"

Gomer smiled at the two children in the dim light. He was glad that of all the books Goober had had to choose from, he'd picked this one. Hien and Linh, who had lost everything themselves, had found common ground with the novel's heroine. They connected to the story on a level that he and Duke couldn't even begin to grasp. And maybe, by following Scarlett's strong and brave example, they would in turn learn to deal with their own loss.

Duke had been thinking along the same lines himself. He shook his head, smiling wanly. _I can't help but feel sorry for them and all, but what are we ever going to do with them?_

Linh turned to Duke. "I have a question, though. If Rhett loves her, then why did he leave her on that road?"

Duke laughed softly. "Well, uh…Linh, you've got to understand. Love's a very complicated thing. When there are two people who have personalities like Rhett and Scarlett that are attracted to each other, well, they always want to be holding the upper hand in their relationship. So they play games with each other." _Hey, sounds kind of like Morgan and I. _If _you can call what we have a relationship, _he thought to himself.

Linh frowned. "Leaving her on the road like that doesn't sound like a fun game!"

Duke sighed. "It's hard to explain, kid. Ways of the heart are confusing, even to us adults. Scarlett thinks she's in love with Ashley, right? And she thinks he's doing a brave term by serving in the war. Rhett despises the war, but Scarlett doesn't like the fact that such a rich man like him isn't in uniform. So, when rescuing her can't win her affections, he joins the army in their hour of defeat, hoping that Scarlett will look on it as a brave and gallant gesture. Maybe even love him for it. You see?"

"I think." Linh still looked as confused as ever. "But Scarlett still hates him, so it didn't really work."

"Yeah, it's not working for me, either." Duke muttered. "Let's just say that the heavens have to be smiling on you in order to get lucky in love."

"I got real lucky." Gomer smiled longingly, setting the book aside as he thought of his wife and child back home. "An' you wanna know how come?"

Hien and Linh leaned forward, eager to hear his secret.

Gomer pointed up at the top of the tent. "My momer an' daddy's a-watchin' over me from up there somewheres. Course, my lucky troll doll helps a lot, but they've always been there, makin' me lucky in ever'thing I do." He smiled and handed the children a blanket to sleep with. "Jus' like your momer an' daddy's lookin' after you."

Gomer waited until they were asleep before turning off the flashlight and settling in himself. Duke turned to do the same, throwing a glance at the two small, still forms. Initially, it had seemed like Gomer and Duke were teaching them. Now, it practically appeared to be the other way around.

-

"Well, we weren't just successful, that's all." Carter shrugged angrily. "Maybe the guy has nothing to hide, after all."

"There's something wrong with Monroe, I know it!" Bunny exclaimed. "I think we've just taken the wrong approach to this thing."

Carter snorted. "Easy for you to say. You weren't the one who got attacked by flying paperweights! I could've got out in time, but _no, _you had to take the ladder and run!"

The Carters had stopped and regrouped in the sergeant's car parked only a few yards down the street. After their first attempt at investigation had failed miserably, their plan needed serious revision.

Bunny thought a minute before snapping her fingers. "I've got it! Follow him. That's what we'll do! We'll follow him!"

"We? Bun, Monroe's not that stupid! He's going to notice two people following him around!" Carter protested, shaking his head in disgust.

"I know." Bunny smiled slyly. "That's why _we're _not going to follow him. _You're _going to follow him!"

-

Duke sat down on his helmet next to Gomer early the next morning. He groaned. "C-rations. That's all I've seen since we've been here. C-rations. I'm pining for a good meal, especially since those kids have been taking half of what I got!"

"Hush, Duke. They might hear you." Gomer murmured. He suddenly slumped forward, almost losing his tray as he was given a hard slap across the back. "Hey, Shrenk."

The lieutenant just grinned and gave Duke his slap. Shrenk's slaps across the back were coveted among the men. It was his way of showing he liked you and was looking out for you. The men that didn't know Shrenk thought he was arrogant and self-absorbed. But the men who did know him knew better.

From across the encampment, Sergeant Brooks blew his whistle. "All right, you stupid scrubs! Line up!"

Duke and Gomer slowly stood, joining the other men reluctantly. "Wonder what Brooks got up his sleeve this time?" Duke murmured.

"Slater, come over here, you idiot!"

The corporal resignedly took his spot next to Sergeant Brooks.

"Watch the men, Corporal. I'm going to make an inspection of the living quarters."

Gomer paled. Duke began stammering nervously.

"S-Sarge? This inspection wasn't scheduled."

"The heck it wasn't!" Brooks snarled at Duke nastily. "I'm the sergeant here! I mandate the inspections when I want 'em!" With that, he turned and brusquely began looking in the first tent.

_Duke…what we gonna do? _Gomer mouthed, his face ashen.

Duke shrugged helplessly. _We can't do anything._

The sergeant had moved over into the next tent. If he looked really hard, Duke could see Hien and Linh peering out the front tent flap cautiously.

_Go, _Duke mouthed, waving his hand. _Get out of here! The sergeant!_

The two had withdrawn and were just about ready to go out the back when Sergeant Brooks entered the tent, apprehending them by the arm. "Well, well, well. What have we here?"

-

"Monroe, please. I am in mourning." Lou Ann pushed her guest away in disgust. Ever since the night he'd trapped her in her own room, he'd tried several times since then to make a pass at her. As a result, Lou Ann was becoming increasingly uncomfortable about him staying in her house.

"I know, Lou Ann. I'm sorry. I ought to be ashamed of myself." Monroe consented in reply.

"You always say that, then you always try again!" Lou Ann cried. She hugged herself in despair. "Cain't you let me remember Gomer in peace?"

"Gomer," Monroe muttered in disgust. "Why'd he have to be the one? I've loved you for a lot longer than he has, Lou Ann!"

"Don't you dare insult Gomer when he cain't even defend himself anymore!" Lou Ann's eyes flashed. "I love him, an' in my opinion, he's more than twice the man you are!"

Monroe quietly shook his head. "No, Lou Ann. You ain't Gomer's anymore. You're mine, and I _will _have you. I came to take back what's rightfully mine, and I ain't leaving without it."

Lou Ann backed up toward the hall, frightened. Monroe was scaring her again, and she had no idea what to do. She let out a small cry as Monroe took a step toward her.

Witnessing the whole incident through the peephole in the door, Sergeant Carter's eyes widened. _Poor Lou Ann, _he thought. _Monroe's a wolf! I've gotta do _something!

He rang the doorbell and hurried down the aisle, ducking around the corridor just as Monroe opened the door. "Hello?" Seeing no one there, he shrugged and closed the door.

The opportunity had provided Lou Ann with plenty of time to run back to her room and slam the door, locking it behind her. Once inside and safe, she sagged with relief. "Oh, Vinny." She moaned, moving over to his crib and picking him up. She cradled him in her arms, sitting down on the bed. "I wish your daddy was here."

"Ma-Ma?" Vincent laughed, pleased to have awoke from his nap to have such attention lavished on him.

Lou Ann sighed happily, gently stroking his black hair. "Vinny, what _ever _would I do without you?"

A lone tear slid down her cheek as she rocked the only person who'd meant as much to her as her husband had.

-

"An' that's the truth, sir." Gomer concluded sadly. He and Duke were standing in front of Colonel Hanson with Sergeant Brooks and the children. Not even wanting an explanation himself but looking mighty smug, Brooks had taken the foursome straight to the Colonel's headquarters. He'd shoved them through the door and told the men to explain themselves to the Colonel. Duke had opened his mouth, ready to lie his pants off for all he was worth, but Gomer had beat him to it. Feeling the weight of his secret and the awful lies he and Duke had told to protect it, he decided to make a clean breast of things. For better or for worse. Not daring to meet the Colonel's eyes, Gomer shamefully looked down at the floor. He felt better for telling the truth…even if it _had _been for the worst.

Duke closed his eyes. This was it. _Goodbye, Vietnam. Goodbye, Marines. Goodbye, Morgan. Goodbye, everything._

The kids fidgeted nervously under Sergeant Brooks' strong grasp. Brooks smiled wider than he ever had in his life. He'd finally caught the two Marines red-handed and forced them to tell the Colonel everything themselves. They were definitely all washed up this time!

"Slater! Pyle! You will look at me when I address you!" Colonel Hanson barked sternly.

Gomer slowly raised his eyes to meet the Colonel's gaze. He immediately relaxed, giving the Colonel a small smile. Though Hanson's face was stony, his eyes held a twinkle that belied his true feelings.

"Pyle, Slater. Instead of turning these children over to the appropriate officers, you hid them in your tent, read to them every evening, and gave them half of all your food. On more than one occasion, you lied to your sergeant to avoid discovery, for fear not only of your reputations, but of these children's welfare." He smiled. "Good work."

"WHAT?!" Brooks' jaw dropped to the floor. "They broke just about every rule in the book! Keeping non-regulation items among their personal belongings, concealing the enemy, lying to their sergeant…" he listed the points on his fingers.

"They ain't the enemy! Jus' cause they're the same race don't make 'em the same kind!" Gomer protested in the children's defense.

"Gomer's right, Colonel. That's prejudice!" Duke jumped in. "Just look at Gomer. The fact that he's southern doesn't make him a Klansman, does it?"

"You make an excellent point, Slater. Which is why I agree with you wholeheartedly." Colonel Hanson smiled approvingly.

"But Colonel…" Brooks began.

"But nothing, Sergeant. These men have shown great compassion through all they've done for these children. The Marines are not ruthless killers of innocent youths. Pyle and Slater have clearly demonstrated their observance of right and freedom for all, which is a very valuable quality to have." Colonel Hanson came around from behind his desk and moved toward Sergeant Brooks. "Above all else, we are human beings. You would do well to remember that yourself, Sergeant."

The smile was now totally gone from Brooks' face. "Y-yes, sir. Certainly, sir."

"You are dismissed." Colonel Hanson replied curtly, turning away from the sergeant.

"Aye, aye, sir." Brooks meekly turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

The Colonel got down on his knees and smiled at the children. "I'm sorry about your parents."

"It is okay. Number one, like Duke and Gomer say." Hien smiled shyly. "You know, you are not as scary as I thought you would be."

"No." Colonel Hanson laughed softly. "In fact, I have a daughter myself not much older than you. She also doesn't have her parents or a real home. I'm overseas, her mother's been long dead, and she's been stuck in a military base with a nanny back in the States. So she spends most of her time with her horse, Starlight."

"Gomer and Duke read _Gone With the Wind _to us!" Linh cried eagerly.

"Have they, now?" Colonel Hanson stood and turned to address the men. "Now, as for you two, you know I very well can't punish you for keeping them here. But they certainly can't stay. Just what do you suggest we do with them?"

"If you don't mind, Colonel, I think I got an idear…" Gomer began.

"Yes?"

"I would need to make a phone call, though. A long distance one." He said hesitantly.

"My phone is yours to use." Hanson gestured to the phone on his desk, ushering the children and Duke to join him at the other end of the room so Gomer could make his call in private.

"Sir, I have to tell you something in the strictest of confidence." Duke began, glancing at Hien and Linh. The information he wanted to impart on the Colonel wasn't fit for their ears.

Hanson caught his meaning, pulling out blotting paper and blue and red pens from a nearby filing cabinet. "Kids, why don't you draw some pictures while we wait for Lance Corporal Pyle to finish his call?"

"Okay!" The children cried, grabbing up the pens and setting to work on their drawings.

"What is it, Corporal?" Hanson asked, turning back to Duke expectantly.

"Sir, it's got to do with Private First Class Roscoe Seward." Duke bit his lip, wondering if he was doing the right thing. "I have reason to believe he's a trafficker. I found marijuana and heroin on his person when he was high."

Colonel Hanson nodded. "I'll contact Sergeant Brooks and have him look into it immediately."

Duke shrugged listlessly. He felt awful for telling, but it was for the guys' own good.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise you won't be sorry…talk to you, soon, now…bye." Gomer hung up the phone, turning back to the others. "Good news, good news, good news! Don't worry about a thing, Colonel. I've got it all set."

"Wait. What exactly did you do? Who'd you call?" Duke asked, confused. What could have possibly been Gomer's sudden burst of inspiration?

Gomer smiled. "That's the best part! You remember Kim, Kim Sonisay, from when we took that trip to Cambodier?"

Duke rolled his eyes. "How can I forget?"

"Well, after we went our separate ways, she went home to see her daddy. An' while she was there, her daddy showed her around to all the places she ain't seen since she was little. An' you know her daddy was jus' as nice as he could be? Why, even though they ain't seen each other in years, she said it was like they'd never been apart! She said people couldn't tell that they didn't used to get along to well jus' to look at them. Why, she told me this one time…"

"Gomer, will you cut it out and get to the point already?" Duke sighed in exasperation.

"That's jus' what I was about to tell you. While her daddy was showin' her all the sights, she met a farmer feller an' fell in love, would you know it? Got married, too, not too long ago. An' they was sayin' how, seein' as Kim's such a good friend of mine, they'd be right happy an' willin' to adopt Hien an' Linh here. They's always wanted children, she said, an' I told her their story an' she'd love to have 'em! Ain't that wonderful?" Gomer smiled at the children.

"I guess so." Hien said quietly. Linh nodded, her face pensive.

Gomer squatted down in front of him, holding their hands. "Are you scared?" He asked quietly. When they nodded their heads, he went on. "Well, it is pretty scary, goin' to a new place an' startin' a new life an' all. But it'll be okay. You'll like Kim. She's a real nice girl. An' you'll be well provided for." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the tattered copy of _Gone With the Wind. _"Here. I want you two to have this."

"But Gomer, this is your book." Hien protested.

"I have a feelin' you need this more'n I do." Gomer smiled. "See, that's our goin' away present. When you get to Cambodier, you cain have Kim's husband read it to you, an' ever' time you do that you cain think of us."

"But we won't know anyone there." Linh sobbed.

"Hey, you didn't know us at first. Remember?" Duke smiled.

"That's right. An' don't forget to keep readin' this story." Gomer tapped the cover of the book. "Scarlett wasn't afraid to start over again. She always made the best of her situation. I want you to remember that."

"We will! Thank you, Gomer!" They cried, throwing their arms around the Marine.

"Goll-ly." He said softly, hugging them back.

The two then turned and hugged Duke. "I hope things go better for you and Morgan." Linh whispered in his ear.

Duke gave her a crooked grin, speaking in his very best Clark Gable impersonation, "Frankly, my dear, I think they will."

"Come along, kids." Colonel Hanson took them gently by the hand and led them outside. Hien looked up at the formidable man companionably while Linh clutched the hand tightly to her chest. They both turned around and waved to their friends before disappearing out the door.

Duke stood next to Gomer, a strange, hollow feeling in his stomach. He smiled sadly. "You know, Gomer…I never thought I'd be saying this, but I think I'm really going to miss 'em."

Gomer shook his head and laughed, wiping away a stray tear. "I think so, too, Duke. At least ever'thing worked out for the best."

"Yeah." Duke grimaced, thinking about PFC Seward and what he'd told Colonel Hanson. He hoped he'd made the right decision.

-

Sergeant Carter moved stealthily through the shadows, picking his way carefully, though always keeping his target in sight. Bunny had visited Lou Ann shortly after supper to find Monroe leaving, eager to go yet refusing to say where he was going. She'd quickly called her husband, telling him to catch Monroe on the way out and find out where. Boyle would tag even farther behind Carter, taking a cumbersome record recorder with him in case they needed it for evidence. Carter thought it best for Boyle to cover him in case anything went wrong.

Carter was careful to keep far enough behind so that Monroe wouldn't suspect he was being followed. It was easy when they arrived in town. Most of the Marines at Camp Henderson had been given their passes for the evening, so the streets were crowded with khaki uniforms. Carter blended right in with the crowd.

He stopped and leaned against a wall, watching Monroe out of the corner of his eye. His target had stopped beside an unassuming door in the middle of the business district. He tapped on the door and called out, "Ack-a-lacka gee?"

"Ack-a-lacka joe!" A voice replied from behind the door.

"Carolina Ankies?"

"Go, go, go!"

With that, Monroe opened the door and stepped inside. Carter snuck around the alley to an open window and peered inside. He quickly ducked his head when the first thing he saw was a profile of Monroe's head right next to the window.

"Got the papers drawn up, Joe?"

Carter leaned against the wall, listening closely. He could perfectly hear Monroe's conversation from where he sat.

"Yeah, Monroe. Though I've got to say, your request is very strange, if not illegal."

"Joe, this is your buddy here, remember?"

"Yes, but Monroe, you don't know the legal system like I do. What you're doing is a major federal offense!"

"You want to be paid in full, don't you? Now, do as I tell you and nobody will know a thing."

"I just don't think it's right for you to forge Lou Ann's signature on these divorce papers."

Carter heard chairs scraping against the floor and a yelp from the man called 'Joe.' He cautiously peeked over the sill to see Monroe holding the other man by his shirt collar.

"Listen here, Joe. I've lost Lou Ann too many times to this Gomer character to let her go now! I _will _have her this time, and he'll be helpless to stop me! She already thinks he's rotting away in some ditch over in Vietnam! She's even starting to warm up to me! I'm warnin' you, Joe. I will do whatever it takes to get her this time!"

"O-okay. Y-you think you can forge her signature pretty well, then?"

"Think?" Monroe laughed contemptuously. "I've been practicing it for weeks! Now, where are the papers?"

Carter's eyes widened in alarm. He had to tell Lou Ann!

He jumped up and ran down the street in the direction of the apartment complex. Seeing a flash of khaki at the window, Monroe frowned and leapt out of his seat to follow him. "Hey!"

Carter was in top physical condition by US Marine standards, but Monroe was a football player, and would easily be able to catch him. He would have to use sneak tactics for this caper. Carter ducked down a narrow alleyway and stopped at its dead end, hoping Monroe would follow. He wasn't disappointed.

"You!" Monroe's eyes narrowed. "What do you know?"

"I know everything, Monroe. You can stop the act." Carter smiled triumphantly.

"But you'll never tell anyone. Especially not Lou Ann." Monroe retorted hotly.

"How come?" Carter asked innocently.

"She's right where I want her now. It's a given that she'll marry me soon enough. And once those forged papers are put into action, she'll be mine for the taking and Gomer won't even know a thing."

"That's a good plan you had there, Monroe. But you're forgetting one thing." Carter laughed nervously.

Monroe eyed him warily. "What's that?"

"I'll tell her." He replied simply.

"Oh, no, you won't." Monroe roughly grabbed Carter and dragged him along. "We'll go to Lou Ann and you'll tell her a straight faced lie, or it's curtains for Miss Bunny!"

Carter rolled his eyes at all the cloak-and-dagger talk. _Who does this guy think he is, the Mafia? Oh, well. I guess I'll have to go along with it. _"No, please, Monroe! Anything but that!"

"Then you'll do as I say."

"Of course." Carter nodded to Boyle, who was well concealed by a dumpster not too far away from where he was standing. _I'll just let the truth speak for itself!_

_-_

"Lou Ann! Look who ran into me while I was out!" Monroe called out as he and Carter entered the apartment.

Carter meekly met Bunny's gaze and tried giving her a small wave. It failed to amuse her.

"Why, Sergeant Carter! What a pleasant surprise!" Lou Ann smiled warmly at the visitor. "Care to sit down?"

"Uh, sure. I was just having a drink at the bar downtown when I saw Monroe. We got to talking about football." He smiled at Monroe, his look suggesting that he'd fulfilled his promise to lie. Monroe roughly let him go.

Carter moved over to Bunny. "Bun, Boyle and I have got a surprise for you."

"You have? What is it?" Bunny crossed her arms expectantly.

"I have Boyle coming over with that new record you wanted. I ordered it a few weeks ago and I had Boyle go pick it up for me. He should be coming any second now." Carter said, raising his voice on the last sentence. Picking up the cue, Boyle knocked on the door and was shown in, holding a record in his hands.

"Here's the record, Sarge." Boyle handed it to Carter and nodded.

"Thank you, Corporal Boyle. That was awfully thoughtful of you, though I don't understand why Vince couldn't have gotten it." Bunny said, looking puzzled.

"No problem. In fact, it was right on my way." Boyle smiled reassuringly.

"Yeah! Why don't you play it?" Carter asked, moving her over toward the record player.

"But Vince, I don't really think…"

"Play it," He ordered her sternly under his breath.

"All right. If you feel that way about it. Sheesh." Bunny turned and went to put it on the player. Carter sat down where Lou Ann had indicated and picked up his namesake.

"Hey, buddy. Did you miss your godfather? Huh?" He laughed as the baby reached out him, burbling happily.

Monroe drew Lou Ann aside, glancing around to make sure they weren't being watched. He cautiously took hold of her hands and smiled. "Lou Ann, I know this is kind of sudden, but I…"

His words were suddenly cut off by his own as Bunny began playing the record.

_"…Listen here, Joe. I've lost Lou Ann too many times to this Gomer character to let her go now! I _will _have her this time, and he'll be helpless to stop me! She already thinks he's rotting away in some ditch in Vietnam! She's even starting to warm up to me! I'm warnin' you, Joe. I will do whatever it takes to get her this time!"_

"Where is that coming from?" Monroe exclaimed in dismay. All of a sudden, his plan seemed to unravel before him. If he didn't do something fast, Lou Ann would soon know everything!

There was a pause, then Sergeant Carter's voice rang out loud and clear: _"I know everything, Monroe. You can stop the act."_

_"But you'll never tell anyone. Especially not Lou Ann." _Monroe's voice replied.

"Stop it! Turn that record off!" Monroe cried, running toward the player. Lou Ann bravely stepped in front of him.

"Excuse me. But I think I'd like to hear what it has to say." She glared at him before turning back to the player.

_"…a given that she'll marry me soon enough. And once those forged papers are put into action, she'll be mine for the taking and Gomer won't even know a thing."_

There was a click, and the record gave way to dead air.

The room was completely silent. Lou Ann was too stunned to speak. Monroe was livid. Sergeant Carter could only grin smugly. Bunny had an I-told-you-so expression on her face. Boyle looked around uncomfortably, not wanting to be the first to say anything. The silence was finally broken by Vincent, who cried out, "Bad!" at the top of his voice.

"I believe Vinny is right." Lou Ann said quietly. "You tricked me, Monroe. Oh, what a horrible man you are!" She glowered at him darkly. She turned to Bunny, gesturing for her to leave so she could speak with Monroe alone. Bunny, Boyle and Carter, still carrying Vincent, retreated to the kitchen alcove, closing the door behind them.

"Gomer's still alive!" Lou Ann cried, never more happy or angry to say that statement in her entire life. "You were plannin' on breakin' us up so you could…could…Oh!" She exclaimed in outrage.

"Lou Ann, are you seriously going to believe some silly little recording?" Monroe protested, trying to save himself. "I mean, sure, it sounded like me, but…"

"Monroe, if you really love me, you'll tell me the truth!" Lou Ann spat. The silence was deafening. She knew she had him fixed this time.

Monroe regarded her silently. She'd caught him in his own trap and there was no escaping it now. He realized the only way to save face would be to do as she asked. He slowly nodded. "You want the truth? Okay."

He turned and slowly began pacing the room. "When J.R. came home and started showin' ever'one the pictures of the baby, I got crazy. Why should Gomer be the one getting to live out _my _dream?" He jabbed his thumb toward himself angrily. "I didn't think it was fair. I'm jealous of Gomer, Lou Ann. Jealous that you went through with marryin' him when you left me at the altar! Jealous that you're livin' together, havin' kids! Jealous that all J.R. can do is go on about how brave Gomer is, doing a tour of duty in Vietnam, when I've got twice his gumption. Jealous that you've stayed true to him, despite all I've tried to do." He slumped dejectedly and slowly approached her. "I'm sorry, Lou Ann. I really am. If there's any way we could…"

"Stop." She held up a hand, her blue eyes icy as she glared up at him. "I appreciate your honesty, Monroe. But I have heard enough. It may be difficult for you to understand, but when you say hurtful things about Gomer, you hurt me! An' your deception cannot be undermined in my estimation. I'm afraid I must ask you to leave my apartment immediately. What you did was unforgivable. Do not _ever _call on me again, Monroe! Ever! Now, go!" She pointed angrily, her face flushed a bright red.

Monroe nodded slowly. He knew in that moment that he'd finally lost her friendship forever. "Okay." He quickly gathered his things into his bag and opened the door. "Gomer's a lucky man, Lou Ann." He said softly before leaving her life for the last time. With him, a chapter of her past had finally been brought to an ugly end.

Lou Ann took a deep breath and sighed. She hadn't felt this relaxed in weeks. She fell back on the couch, laughing softly. "Oh, Gomer. You're safe, you're safe," she murmured in between laughs.

The kitchen door opened and Vincent toddled a few steps into the room before promptly sitting down. "Ma-Ma?"

Lou Ann smiled happily, slowly getting up from the couch and picking up her son. "Hey, Vinny. Look at you, walkin' around like a big boy." She cooed adoringly before turning to the kitchen. "It's all right, now. You didn't have to send Vinny in to spy on me."

Bunny, Boyle and Carter cautiously reentered the room. "Is he gone?" Bunny asked quietly.

Lou Ann nodded. "For good this time." She shuddered. "Oh, what a horrible man he is! I cain't believe I ever believed all those lies he said!" She smiled at her friends. "I'm glad I had you guys to show him as the rat he is!"

Bunny smiled. "Well, I only put two and two together. Vince here got the evidence, with Boyle's help." She turned to the two men. "That was a very brave thing to do." She leaned over and kissed her husband's cheek.

Carter colored and shrugged. "All in the line of duty, I guess."

-

"ALL RIGHT! WHICH OF YOU STUPID IDIOTS STOLE MY REVOLVER?!" Sergeant Brooks bellowed, eying his platoon warily. In his eyes, everyone was under suspect. "THAT WEAPON IS TO BE CARRIED BY NONCOMS ONLY! GIVE IT BACK BEFORE I SHOOT YOUR BLEEDING EYES OUT!"

Duke rolled his eyes as he sat on the ground next to Gomer, polishing his M-16 rifle. "The old quack probably misplaced it. He'd blame everything on us, if he could."

Gomer just chuckled, wiping his bayonet clean. "Hey, you hear they sent Drain-O back to the world? Nobody said where he was goin', neither. But I heard it from Shrenk, who heard it from Captain Hudson, who heard it from Lieutenant Colonel Watkins, who heard it from Colonel Hanson, that he's goin' to Fort Leavenworth."

"Yeah." Duke refused to meet his friend's gaze, polishing his rifle even harder. About a week had passed since their meeting in Colonel Hanson's office. Duke didn't doubt for a minute that it was because of what he said that Seward was flying back to the States on a one-way ticket to military prison.

"Duke? You think it might have somethin' to do with them powders we saw him carryin' around?" Gomer asked slowly.

"I'd rather not talk about it, okay, Gome?" Duke replied flippantly. He turned the rifle over in his hands. "This thing's a piece of junk. Nothing but plastic. Like a toy or something. A kid could shoot a target with this just as good as a Marine could." He shook his head. "I for one miss the M-14, don't you?"

"I hear you. The M-14's a real crafted handiwork. You wanted marksmanship, well, it gave you marksmanship all right. There's no comparison to the one we have now. The M-16's a piece of crap." Shrenk sat down next to the two men, quietly smoking a cigarette. "Headquarters givin' us orders to divide into patrols and begin an offensive. They think they've got the enemy pinpointed." He shrugged. "I'da know. Just thought I'd give you the heads up. We head out tomorrow at first dawn. It ain't gonna be no pretty picture show, either. Dang," he turned and grinned at Gomer and Duke. "You two'll do all right, though. Long as you remember to 'cya and get the heck outta here.'" He laughed throatily.

"You think it's gonna be bad, Shrenk?" Gomer asked quietly.

"I know so." Shrenk shook his head. "Gosh, I hate this place." He stood, throwing down his cigarette and stomping it out. "You two better take care tomorrow, you hear?"

"Hey, John." Gomer looked up and smiled as PFC Redfoot came over and squatted down beside them.

"Hey Gomer, Duke, Shrenk." Redfoot nodded to each of them. "You seen the Fargo Wagon anywhere?"

"No. I didn't even see him at breakfast, come to think of it." Duke replied.

"What's botherin' him, anyway? He's been actin' purdy strange lately. He ain't at all like he used to be. It makes me feel uneasy. He used to be real easy to talk to. A real smart feller, an' jus' as nice as he could be. What happened to him?" Gomer asked.

At that moment, a loud crack sounded from the direction of the brush surrounding the camp. Shrenk jumped up and ran toward the noise. The other three followed noiselessly.

"Christ!" Shrenk breathed upon seeing the source of the noise. "Poor sod." He turned and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Hey, Brooks! I found your revolver!"

"Hoy crap," Redfoot swiftly whirled around and vomited into the nearest bush.

Duke turned to Gomer, his face a pale, sickly shade of green. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Private First Class James Fargo lay on the ground, the sergeant's revolver still in his hand. The shiny black barrel pointed to where he'd shot himself in the head.


	28. Mission Aborted

**Chapter 28**

_Mission Aborted_

"Air raiders have been mapping out the region to the immediate north of us for months now, and have finally found an enemy encampment located two miles north-northwest of here." Captain Hudson indicated a spot on his map. "It appears to be about a mile and a half in diameter, and estimates have come in that there are close to two thousand enemy troops stationed there. It is our mission to attack this area and demilitarize it, pushing the enemy farther north, back toward their territory and out of ours." He turned and gestured to the man standing beside him. "Lieutenant Shrenk here will be in charge of reconnaissance and platoon dispense."

"Thank you, Captain." Shrenk moved to stand in front of the map. "I think you all know how important this mission is. We need every last one of you on your toes and ready for orders, so pay close attention." He scanned the faces of his comrades and smiled. Trust shone in their eyes as they listened attentively to their leader. Shrenk was their buddy. He wouldn't let them down.

He looked down at his list and cleared his throat. "Platoons are to be divided into patrols of five to seven men as directed by the platoon sergeant. Patrols will be numbered and dispensed in accordance with the alphabetical order of the sergeant's name." He looked up. "Brooks, that means you got first patrol. Have your men ready to move out at oh-four hundred hours."

Sergeant Brooks gruffly nodded.

Shrenk held up his walkie-talkie. "I'll be accessible through radio, should anyone encounter a problem. All noncoms, as well as home base, will be equipped with a transmitter should they need to reach me. All platoon sergeants will name a runner to keep a tack on that platoon's patrols and all situations that arise. Needless to say, these men need to work fast to keep the officers well informed. Your sergeant will assign you your respective patrols. And be careful out there. We're not dealing with untrained, inexperienced fighters here." Shrenk smiled. "Dismissed. Goodnight, men."

Gomer turned worriedly to Duke. "Goll-ly. Shrenk was right. This sounds purdy serious."

To Gomer's amazement, Duke was grinning excitedly. "Finally! Our second tour and we _finally _get to see some _real _action!"

"Listen up!" Brooks called out. "Listen for your name and remember what patrol you're in! I'm reading this list once and once only!" He eyed his men warily before continuing. "First patrol: Slater, Steffens, Lancaster, Cocklin, Reeves. Second patrol: Lewis, Burke, Anderson, Newman, and Schiller. Third patrol: Pyle, O'Neil, Brinby, Redfoot and Rivers. Hughes, you're the runner."

Duke turned to Gomer, his face beaming. "Gomer, I got in the first patrol! I get to be right at the front of the lines! Isn't that great?"

Gomer forced a small smile. "Yeah, Duke. If you say so."

"Come on, Gome. It'll all be number one. I can look after myself. I mean, just think. We're doing the real thing now!" Duke slung his arm over Gomer's shoulder, laughing.

"If you don't mind my sayin' so, Duke…that's exactly what I'm afraid of."

-

The platoon beat the sun to rising early the next morning. The land was still and quiet, so quiet that not even the mosquitoes were buzzing very loudly. There was an electricity in the air. Nature could seem to pick up from the men's feelings and sense that this would be no ordinary day.

Duke fixed his gear, pulling his helmet on confidently. He reached down to pick up his rifle when a sound slap blew across his back. He stumbled forward and turned around, grinning. "Good morning to you, too, Shrenk."

"Aren't we the dutiful little soldier this morning?" Shrenk laughed contemptuously. "Cool it, Duke. Once you're out there, you're gonna wish you never was."

"This means a lot to Duke, Shrenk." Gomer smiled from where he sat on his helmet. "He wants to be all-Marine."

"All-Marine, all dead, same thing." Shrenk nonchalantly lit a cigarette. "Better have all my smokes now. Can't do it out in the jungle with all them Charlies hanging around." He gave the men a crooked smile. "You guys dependin' on me today, you know?" Though he acted coolly, he was dreading the events ahead. It was his job to see these men through alive. His mission had been doomed from the very beginning. His real duty would be to salvage what he could. Today was clearly going to be a trial.

_Shrenk's prob'ly seen plenty of days like this, _Gomer thought spontaneously. He frowned as he pondered it further, growing confused. "Shrenk? If you hate this place so much, why do you keep on comin' back?"

Shrenk took a final draw on his cigarette, throwing it down and grinding it into the ground with his boot. His eyes scanned the preparing Marines around him grimly. "Can't leave a friend out to dry, you know?"

He turned back to Gomer and Duke, the careless grin back in place. "Duke. Don't get so eager you jump the gun." He smacked Duke's shoulder in companionship before heartily shaking Gomer's hand. "You two take care now, you hear?" He turned and moved off, strapping his utility belt around his waist. "See you on the other side, now."

Gomer watched Shrenk's retreating back in awe. "Goll-ly," he whistled, slowly shaking his head.

Duke squatted down next to him. "There goes a man that's _really _all-Marine," he murmured, voicing the thoughts of both.

-

Before he knew it, Duke was out leading the first patrol, moving stealthily through the dense brush. Private Hughes tagged along in the rear, ready to run back and report if anything happened. The corporal looked down and checked his compass. They were still right on course. They'd been hiking for upwards of two hours now. They had to be getting close.

"You know, they show it in all the war pictures, how it's never the first patrol that gets attacked. They wait for us to give it the all clear, then go attack the reinforcements!" Lancaster said, trying to sound light.

"So that means we're basically just doing the other guys in, right?"

The men laughed, starting to relax a bit. Making light of their situation helped to significantly reduce the evident strain that seemed to surround them.

Cocklin snorted. "Hey, if my empty beers are any indication, them Charlies will be so drunk they won't even see who they're running at!"

The men laughed again, a little more forced this time. They all knew the Charlies were no laughing matter. Should their patrol fall in harm's way, they knew they were all as good as dead. The Charlies were ruthless, and they rarely missed.

"Hey, you guys hear what happened to Fargo?" Reeves asked.

"Hear? I was there!" Duke cried.

Lancaster shook his head. "Poor guy."

The patrol was silent for a minute. Fargo's suicide had sent a shocking ripple throughout the entire platoon. It seemed unfathomable that one of their closest friends could have succumbed to the pressures of war. It had shaken everyone up far more than they would have liked to admit.

"Gosh, this certainly ain't like anything back home." Will Steffens murmured from where he trekked beside Duke. "Where I come from, it's nothing but mountains. It's real purdy, too. Here, it's nothin' but trees and trees and trees…I feel like I'm in a rain forest or something." He grinned. "Course, you can hide in the trees. When you get to the paddies and fields, it's harder to hide."

"How's Fanny?" Duke asked, checking his compass again.

"Pinin' for me. Poor thing, thinks she's an old maid. All the folks back home are startin' to talk. I told her I'd marry her as soon as I got outta Nam." He smiled and shrugged. "Just that irresistible, I guess. What's Morgan up to?"

Duke shrugged. "Nothing as far as I'm concerned. I haven't seen her since Christmas, and she hasn't written a line to me since." He sighed. "She's probably forgotten all about me by now. Got some long-haired lover from Liverpool to follow her around everywhere or something." He turned around and grinned at Hughes, who was sulking along behind the rest. "What's the matter, Walker? Feet getting tired back there?"

"Aw, lay off!" Hughes frowned. Nobody ever wanted to be the runner. The job was despised among the men. Needless to say, he wasn't taking the assignment well.

They were quiet for a bit longer, until Lancaster finally broke the silence. "Them Charlies…they're tight, you know? Probably spyin' on us right now."

Involuntarily, everyone's eyes strayed to the surrounding brush.

Cocklin gulped. "They probably eat a few Marines like us for breakfast."

"Nah. They ain't savages." Reeves grinned. "They'll probably string us up by our toes in the middle of the village, like your dad did to Mussolini." He nudged Cocklin in the ribs.

"I ain't an anarchist!" Cocklin roughly shoved Reeves aside. Duke was about to intervene when he remembered that Cocklin was half-Italian. He could see where the man might have taken the remark as an insult.

"Cool it guys, okay?" He called over his shoulder as a warning. "The trick to this thing is to see them before they see us, so scan the trees carefully."

As they did so, Duke pulled his radio out of his belt and pressed down on the button. "Charlie patrol one to LS. Charlie patrol one to LS. Do you hear me?"

A buzz sounded as he released the button before Shrenk's voice replied dimly above the crackle, "Loud and clear, Corporal. What's the situation?"

Duke smiled and pressed down the button. "Number one. Just checking to see if you were there."

"Hang it, Corporal! This ain't grade school playground games we're doing here! Quit playing John Wayne and focus on your mission!"

"Ten-four on Mission HUAC. Moving on course with no Charlie sightings or casualties. Over and out." He released his hold on the button, waiting for Shrenk's response.

"Whatever…that dumb corporal…"

Duke laughed and returned the radio to his belt. Shrenk was right. It was time to stop fooling around and focus on the mission at hand. Named HUAC for the anti-Communist investigation committee that had plagued the US a decade before, the mission, like its namesake, had the purpose of clearing the targeted area of its resident Communists.

He turned back to the men. "Seen anything yet?"

"No. Just a lotta dumb birds."

"Feel like I'm in the Boy Scouts again." Will said quietly.

Cocklin laughed. "Who says you ain't? Everyone knows the Marines are nothing but a bunch of overgrown Boy Scouts!"

"Cut it out, guys!" Duke hushed them sternly. It was time to get serious. He looked over at Steffens, who shrugged, and shook his head. Maybe this would be easier said than done.

-

"LS to platoon sergeant one. Brooks, are you there?" The transmitter crackled thinly from the sergeant's belt. Brooks grabbed the radio and pressed the button. "Brooks here. Whaddaya want?"

"Sergeant, I've just received contact with Corporal Slater, who's informed me as to his location. I've been consulting the maps and…Sarge, the course you've laid out for them is treacherous. You've got that patrol heading straight into unprotected enemy territory."

Brooks rolled his eyes and pressed the button. "I know that, Lieutenant. I mapped that course out myself."

A moment passed before Shrenk's voice sounded back over the transmitter. "Sarge, if they continue on their present course, the entire patrol is lost. The area they're about to pass through is known for heavy casualties on our side. There's a safer way for them to approach the target area without risking their sorry lives. I'm redirecting the first patrol accordingly."

Brooks ground his teeth as he came back over the air. "Lieutenant, I don't know what the heck you're doing, but I received orders to get my patrols out and take the target zone as quickly as possible. I don't give a hoot whether they live or die, it's part of the job. I don't know what happy false reality you've been living in, but there you are. Lieutenant, there are going to be casualties. It's my objective to have the entire platoon dispensed to the target zone before seventeen hundred hours!"

"Sergeant, it's my job to reduce the number of casualties as much as I can. I'm not just going to let you slaughter these men. I personally don't give a hoot whether it adds an hour or two to projected arrival time. If you don't see it the way I do, I can easily put another sergeant in charge of first patrol. They redirect course." Shrenk clicked off the radio and put it away, sighing heavily. "Dang it, Brooks," he muttered, tears stinging the corners of his eyes.

-

"Come on, guys." Duke groaned. They'd been moving on their new course for about a mile and a half. The sun was already high in the sky. Weren't they ever going to get there?

Private Steffens trekked a few feet ahead of the rest of the patrol. He thought he'd seen some interesting tracks of an anteater. Though Duke had initially protested, Steffens had convinced him to give in. This was going to be his only chance to see an anteater, after all.

"What is this? A wild goose chase or something?" Lancaster asked grumpily. The rest of the men muttered in agreement.

"Yo, Duke." Cocklin panted. "Lay off this pace, will ya? Brooks ain't nowhere near us. I'm starved."

"Yeah, what are you, a slave driver or something? We're only human!" Reeves added.

Duke rummaged around in his pack and came across the bags of granola he'd put together back at camp. He kept one for himself, tossing the rest of the bags back to the men. "Here. That's lunch. We eat and walk at the same time."

"Are you kidding me?" Hughes protested. "Granola?"

"Hey, it's better than the crap they serve us back at camp." Lancaster replied, his mouth already full.

"That ain't it at all! I'm allergic to nuts!"

Lancaster shrugged. "Stinks for you."

Will stooped down to examine the tracks. Slowly, he stood up and began following them again. Duke was about to follow him when sharp, loud cracks rang out. Will's body shook with each crack three, four times before dropping to the ground. From the surrounding brush, an explosion rang out.

"Hit the deck!" Duke cried, throwing himself on the ground. He grimaced as the earth around him and went up in fireballs. This was Hell, or at least, what he thought looked like Hell.

He pulled his rifle out and fired a few rounds in the general direction of the explosions. "Spread out! Fire till they cease return!" He coughed, trying to clear his airways of the thick dust that consumed him before slowly crawling toward his fallen comrade.

"Man down!" He yelled upon reaching Will. He slowly turned the private so he was lying on his back.

"Will, say something! Talk to me, here!" Duke cried.

Steffens' powder-blackened face was slack with astonishment. His eyes were so wide that Duke could clearly see the whites. "Duke…they shot me…the Charlies shot me!" He whimpered in bewilderment.

Duke picked up one of Will's hands and gripped it firmly. "You just hang on and stay with me, okay? We'll get a doc. Everything…" He swallowed, trying to ignore the anxious lump forming in his throat. "Everything's going to be fine." He turned and looked over his shoulder. "Walker! Get over here!"

Private Hughes, who'd been lying unarmed on the jungle floor, his arms over his head in fright, slowly moved within speaking range of the corporal.

"Run and get the doc. Will needs help." Duke murmured.

Hughes stood over Duke and the dying man, dumbfounded.

Duke glanced up at the runner, irritated. "COME ON, WALKER! MOVE!"

The words finally registered in the private's brain. He turned and dashed off in the direction they'd come from. "Bac si! Bac si!"

"Duke…you tell Fanny…I love her…and…I'm sorry!" Will grimaced, squirming under the enormous pain. His breath came in short gasps as he clutched Duke's hand even tighter.

"Calm down, Will. It's okay." Duke whispered, reaching down to undo the zipper of the man's fatigue shirt. He slowly pulled back the sticky nylon to assess the damage. Perhaps he could help pull some of the bullets out.

Duke sucked in his breath and winced at what he found. There were no bullets to dig out, because they had gone right through the private. He knew there wasn't a chance in the world of saving him now.

"Tell Momma…I'm all right…so she won't worry for me." Will gasped. He'd seen Duke's face and read all he needed to know. He knew he didn't have much longer.

"It's all right, Will. Don't worry about your mom now, okay? She'll know. I'm gonna stay here with you, buddy, till the doc gets here, okay?" Duke bit his lip.

"Thanks, Duke…You're a…pal…" he whispered softly. His breaths were shallow and jerky now. His tight grip on Duke's hand released some of its hold.

"Stay with me, Will!" Duke cried.

Lancaster threw a final grenade, bringing the firing to a stop. "Hey, I think they've quit!"

Will smiled weakly. "You get those damn Charlies for me, you hear?"

"Will…Will?" Duke's voice rose hysterically.

Private Steffens closed his eyes, a measure of calm coming over his countenance. He relaxed, his hand going limp and falling to the ground beside him.

Duke sighed and fervently blinked back his tears. It wouldn't do to get broken up in front of the men. He had a mission to complete.

At that moment, Walker returned with the doctor. The medic opened his pouch, crouching down next to Duke. "I came as soon as I could. This boy need help?"

Duke gruffly shook his head. "You're too late." He looked down at the private's face. He certainly was a 'boy,' all right. Nineteen years old, his face was still as smooth as a baby's. He'd never had to shave once in his short life. Fresh out of high school and not even a legal adult, he'd been pulled out and sent over to fight a war not fit for even a man, and had died…what for? Over this thing called Communism? No…he'd trusted Shrenk and Duke. He didn't die because of some men's tiff over Communism. He didn't even know what Communism was. He'd died because he had faith in his buddies. He'd wanted to come through for them.

Duke nodded grimly and stood. He gently nudged the boy with his foot. "Make sure this one gets home to his mother, okay?"

The corpsman nodded and set about putting the private on a stretcher. "Yeah, yeah. They're all important."

Duke turned away and picked up his radio. "LS, you there? Charlie patrol one. We lost Will."

"Christ," Shrenk replied. "Corporal, listen here. You get out of there right now. The Charlies know we're coming, and they'll be expecting us. It'll be murder to go through with it now. You hear me? I'm calling off HUAC. _Get out!"_

"Wait, Shrenk, you mean you want us to go back?" Duke released the button and waited for Shrenk's reply. "Shrenk, are you there?"

No answer came.

He turned back around to see Walker and the bac si carrying Will off. As the dead Marine passed by his comrades, they solemnly saluted him.

Once the stretcher was out of sight, the men turned to Duke expectantly.

The Corporal shrugged. "Well…I guess we go back."

He never heard their reply, because at that moment a grenade landed among the midst of the party and exploded with a sickening boom.

-

**'27 February 1971**

**Dear Lou Ann,**

**How are you an how's Vincent? I hope you're both doing fine. I'm fit as ever, as unchanged as you last writ me. Getting your letters is the highlight of my day here. How's the weather been? I hope it's been fine. Here, we've been getting our usual amount of rain and sun, an it's sure awful hot! I don't think any place could be so hot in the middle of February!**

**Duke sends his thanks for your inquiry an says he is fine. I bet it warn't your inquiry, though. It was Morgan's, wasn't it? I hope she an Duke can get to talkin an work things out between them better. Your best friend an my best friend sure do make a cute couple.**

**Vincent's walkin now? SHAZAAM! Ain't he just the finest little baby boy you ever did see? He's probly done growed up on me again. It don't look like I'll be home for his first birthday, though. Things is real busy now, an I don't think they'll let me get away any time soon. If I don't get to see him, make sure you tell him Daddy says happy birthday.**

**Speaking of birthday wishes, I think you again for remembering, though it ain't anythin too special. 33 don't feel all that different from 32, but maybe I'm just gettin old. The fellers gave me an extry big helpin of rations yesterday. They took some offen their own plates an gave me some of theirs. Duke even lit a match and stuck it in the middle. It was a real nice gesture, comin from the boys an all. It made the day a bit more speshal, knowin they remembered like you did. I won't ever forget it, though I do wish I could've spent it with you…'**

Gomer quickly hid his letter as Sergeant Brooks sauntered by. For once, though, the sergeant didn't even look at him. He walked right on into a nearby tent, where Colonel Hanson was waiting to conference with him.

Gomer consulted his watch. It was almost up on fourteen hundred hours and the second patrol hadn't even been called out yet! What was going on?

At that moment, Gomer got a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. Duke was in trouble. Of that, he was sure. Inexplicably, like the time he knew Kim had been framed, he had no reason behind his feeling. He just knew.

His heart in his throat, Gomer jumped up. He shivered and grabbed his nylon fatigue shirt, pulling it on over his bare chest. Though the day was hot and he was sweating profusely, he felt terribly cold. He set off doggedly for the tent where Brooks and Hanson were conversing, zipping up his shirt as he went. He had to find out what was going on with Duke's patrol. He just had to!

He stopped short and involuntarily drew back as their voices carried over in his direction. He leaned against the side of the tent hesitantly, unsure of what he should do.

_Shame, shame, shame, Gomer! Eavesdroppin's an invasion of privacy, an' nuthin' but wrong! Eavesdroppers never do hear anythin' good about themselves, anyway._

He shook his head. _But I got to! Duke's in trouble an' this is the only way I'm liable to find out before it's too late!_

"…No communication from Charlie patrol one. I think it's safe to assume that something has happened to them."

"Do you want me to go ahead and send out the second patrol?"

"No, Sergeant. We're aborting Mission HUAC. Take a look at the area where we last received contact with Charlie patrol one…" There was a shuffling of paper. "I don't have to tell you about this area, Sergeant. It's highly possible, if not practically certain, the NVA or VC got them. It's no use sending out the rest of the patrols now."

Gomer's eyes widened in alarm. Without thinking, he dashed into the tent. "Duke! What's goin' on? What's happened? Where is he?"

Colonel Hanson and Sergeant Brooks stood by their map in the tent, a shocked expression on both their faces. "Lance Corporal! Remember yourself!" Hanson exclaimed angrily.

"Sorry, sir." Gomer turned and exited the tent meekly. He stood and squared his shoulders. "Sir, requesting permission to enter."

"Come in." Colonel Hanson nodded sternly.

Gomer had to check himself as he stepped inside. "Sergeant Brooks, Colonel Hanson, sir?" He saluted his superior officers. "Scuse me, but what's happened? What's goin' on with Charlie patrol one? Ain't we gonna go find 'em?"

Brooks shook his head. "To do so would be pointless. We write them off as losses and move on."

"But…but Duke's in that patrol!" Gomer cried, becoming panicked.

"Pyle. Corporal Slater is probably beyond help at this point. We can't do anything more for Charlie patrol one. To risk several more lives for those that are, in all probability, already lost is unethical. I'm sorry." Colonel Hanson shook his head sympathetically at Gomer, smiling sadly.

"He cain't be gone! He cain't be!" Gomer pulled at his hair, frantic at what to do. He ain't, he ain't. You still got time, his stomach told him instinctively.

"Pyle, will you please leave? We have business to discuss." Colonel Hanson murmured. "There's only so much we can do."

"No, Colonel. You're a wonderful man, but I'm afraid you're wrong. There's somethin' else you cain do, but you ain't gonna do it. So I'm jus' gonna have to do it for you." Gomer frowned determinedly, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Duke's my friend. I ain't gonna let him down." He lifted his chin defiantly. "I'm goin' after him."

"Pyle!"

Gomer didn't wait to hear what the Colonel had to say. He turned on his heel and dashed out of the tent.

Gomer ran as fast as he could, his mind a whirl of thoughts. I cain't leave Duke out there all alone! I jus' cain't!

He paused and backed up after running by the transmitter. Shrenk! Of course! Shrenk would help him find Duke!

He hurriedly pressed down on the button of the radio. "Shrenk? Are you there? This is Gomer! Duke's in awful trouble! He needs our help!"

He waited for the lieutenant's reply, but none came. The line only crackled deadly.

"Shrenk! Are you there?" Gomer asked, the fear within him threatening to overwhelm him again. He let go of the button, willing Shrenk's irritated and throaty voice to sound over the line.

PFC Redfoot spied Gomer's jerky, hurried movements and headed over his way. "Gomer, what are you doing?"

Gomer glanced in Redfoot's direction before turning back to the radio. "Oh, good, John, you're here! Somethin's wrong with the radio! For some reason, Shrenk cain't get through to me!"

John paled, the circles under his eyes becoming even hollower. "Gomer, didn't you hear?"

Gomer stopped, slowly turning toward his comrade in dread. His mouth was dry. It took several seconds before he regained control of his voice once again. "Hear what?"

"Gomer…Shrenk's dead. He was gunned down by a couple of Charlies out on recon. A runner found his body not two hours ago. God, I thought you knew."


	29. Gomer to the Rescue

**Chapter 29**

_Gomer to the Rescue_

Gomer didn't even bother with gathering his belongings. Acting purely on instinct, he grabbed only his rifle and his helmet before darting off into the jungle. He heard raised shouts behind him, but he didn't begin to hesitate in what he was doing. He knew they weren't about to follow him into enemy territory.

Sweat poured down his face, his poor mind utterly frazzled. Gomer couldn't, wouldn't think, he would just run. If he thought, then he was going to think of Shrenk, who was…dead. _No, _he could _not _think about that now! Duke needed him. He panted from the exertion, but his mind did not even register that he was tired. It was as if time and space were suspended and the world was about to end, with him trapped in the middle of its blazing inferno. This seemed too unreal. It couldn't be happening!

Gomer ran until he thought he might as well give up. This was silly! He would never find Duke! He didn't even know where to look!

He slowed to a stop, holding his knees in an attempt to regain his breath. Once his oxygen levels had returned to normal, he reached up to wipe his brow. His stray strands of hair had been freed in his mad dash and had fallen over his forehead, where they now lay plastered to his face with sweat. He looked down at his feet and moaned softly. How many paddies had he waded through to get to this point? Too many. He shook his head, wishing he'd thought to at least grab his spare pair of socks. Now he was going to get jungle rot for sure.

Straightening, he turned and looked about him, trying to get a grip of his bearings. This field was as bare and unassuming as the rest had been. Still, he decided to give it a try. He was all out of options, save one. It was worth a shot.

Gomer cupped his hands around his mouth. "Duke!" He yelled at the top of his voice. "Duke?" Panicked that there was still no reply, he took a step toward the other end of the field. "Duke, please answer me!" He pleaded desperately, tears mingling with sweat and clinging to his sticky face.

All of a sudden, the field was under open bombardment. Gomer dove to the ground as grenades blew holes into the soil around him. Surrounded by flames and powder and explosions on all sides, frightened out of his mind, he slowly began crawling forward.

_Keep real low, _Gomer reminded himself, trying not to think of the searching heat as it singed his clothes relentlessly. _One inch at a time. Real careful now. That's it…_

He coughed, the fumes overwhelming his lungs. He paused a moment to catch his breath when a grenade exploded a hundred yards away, almost directly in his path.

Gomer watched the smoke rising from the black ground in astonishment. _If I hadn't stopped, that could've been me._

He shook his head and continued crawling. To pause too long meant certain death, and Duke was counting on him.

He slowly reached the end of the field and darted off into the jungle, dodging bullets every step of the way. He stumbled on a vine and fell into a pit obviously created by a grenade. His fall was softened by a limp, green figure.

Gomer put his hands out to steady himself and realized they were stained with blood. His eyes widened and he whimpered fearfully, taking in the carnage surrounding him in the pit. Turning to his buffer, he slowly moved to get a better look at the dead man's face.

As soon as he did, he shrank back in recognition. The man was no other than Private First Class Daniel Lancaster. Or, rather, what was left of him. Gomer cried out in horror. Lancaster had also been a member of the ill-fated first patrol. Gomer patted the man's shoulder. "I'm sorry, buddy." He murmured before pulling himself out of the pit.

He paused to wipe his sweat, smearing his comrade's blood across his face. Fear threatened to consume his every instinct. It couldn't be too late! Not Duke! _Not Duke! _Gomer panted and hurried ahead, glancing around him wildly. "DUKE!"

_Where's Duke? Where's Duke? Where's Duke? _His heart beat the refrain to his breaths, sounding so loud that he was surprised the Charlies didn't hear it. He had to find his friend. Regardless of whether or not he was too late, he had to know what had happened to him. Only certainty of Duke's fate would comfort him now.

His mind other places, Gomer didn't even see the hole he stepped right into. With a cry of surprise, he crumpled to the bottom of the pit and came face to face with…

"Duke!" Gomer exclaimed, his face breaking into a wide grin. "You're still alive!"

Duke managed a small grin, his gray face taught with pain. "Hey, Gomer."

"Duke! I thought for sure you was…an' I thought…I ain't never been so happy to find someone in my entire life!" Gomer blubbered happily, his shoulders sagging with relief. Without thinking, he reached forward and hugged his friend.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Lay off the merchandise, will ya?" Duke yelped, wincing and sucking in air through his teeth sharply.

Gomer pulled back, a concerned look on his face. "Duke…are you hurt?"

Duke shook his head. "It's nothing, okay? What the heck are you doing all the way out here, anyway? Brooks send you out after us or something?"

Gomer tsked lightly, looking over his friend. Duke was lying to him. He was hurt, and hurt bad. To his eyes, it appeared that Duke was still all in one piece, which was more than he could say for the rest of the patrol. His eyes wandered down to Duke's feet, where his eyes widened.

Duke painfully clutched at his right leg, which was twisted at an awkward angle. His pants leg was slightly torn, allowing Gomer to better see the extent of the injury. Gomer paled at what he saw. "Duke…" He yelped.

"It's okay, Gomer. It's just broken, all right?" Duke leaned against the back of the dirt pit and sighed. "I was standing a bit away from the rest of the guys when the grenade hit. That's why I was spared. The blast threw me in this hole, and my leg broke on impact." Seeing Gomer's haunted expression, he forced a small smile. "It's okay, Gome. I know the rest of the guys are dead."

Gomer's eyes were wide as he stared at Duke. His friend grimaced as he read Gomer's wide brown eyes. Fear, surprise, sadness, bewilderment, and disbelief all were evident in his single gaze. Duke sighed. He hated seeing his friend so disillusioned by the world around him.

Gomer shook his head, snapping out of his daze. Duke needed him! "You need help," he murmured, more to himself than to Duke. He turned around and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Bac si!"

"Gomer, what are you doing?" Duke cried.

"I ain't gonna sit an' see you like this, Duke." Gomer looked at his friend grimly.

Duke shook his head. "Look, will you just stay out and let me handle this? The bombing's gotta stop sometime, and when it does, the medics will drop in. You don't want to deprive your best friend of getting rescued and taken care of by those Donut Dollies, would you?" He smiled in spite of himself.

"But you need help now!" Gomer looked at the grenades exploding around the pit before standing over Duke, dragging him up by the shoulders. "I gotta get you out of here." He didn't want to think about what would happen if he couldn't lift his friend. After all, he'd been able to carry Lou Ann up four flights of stairs when she was nine months pregnant. How much heavier could Duke be?

"Gomer, put me down!" Duke cried, pounding his fists on his friend's back as Gomer gingerly picked him up and heaved him over his shoulder.

Gomer ignored him, using Duke's fallen gear as a platform to get out of the hole.

Duke ground his teeth in pain and irritation. "I can walk if I want to! But I don't! Put me down!"

"All right, Duke. If you say so." Gomer clambered out of the hole and set Duke down on the jungle floor. "But you gotta get up and come with me. You need to see the bac si."

"I don't _want _to see the bac si, okay?" Duke yelled angrily up at his friend. "Why the heck did you come here, anyway? This isn't a game, Gomer! Those Charlies are gonna be the ruination of us all and there's nothing you or I can do about it! Now just get out of here!" Duke pointed in the opposite direction with his finger crossly.

He sat back and panted heavily, his face grimy with blood and dust and sweat and God knows what else. Gomer didn't look much better than he did, his clothes dark and sticky, the heavy green nylon clinging to his body. Almost immediately after blowing up at his friend, he felt bad. He shouldn't have lost his cool with Gomer. After all, he'd only been trying to help.

He stared at his muddy boots in an effort to collect his thoughts. _Who are you really mad at, Slater? Myself, that's who. I was in charge and I let the guys down. I should've done more. I'm the one responsible. Why was I the one who made it?_

"Look, Gomer, I'm…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that." Duke looked up to see his friend staring at something over his head, lost in a rapturous fascination for whatever held his attention. Duke frowned. "Hey, Gomer! Down here! Have you even heard a word I've said?"

Gomer blinked, but his gaze didn't falter from the horizon.

"Gomer, are you listening? Look, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to snap at you! You can quit giving me the silent treatment now, okay?" Duke waved his arms in a bid for attention.

Gomer's eyes widened. "Duke, look out!"

"What?" Duke craned his neck to look over his shoulder, but he was too slow. With lightening-fast actions, Gomer grabbed his friend and dove into the surrounding brush, just as a grenade landed and exploded in the pit Duke had previously occupied.

The blast threw a mound of dirt over the friends, Gomer covering Duke with his body protectively. It all happened so fast, you could have missed it in the blink of an eye.

Duke coughed and sputtered, wiping the dirt from his face so he could see. He was pinned down by Gomer's chest, so his vision was blocked. He strained to peer over Gomer's shoulder and saw the smoldering ground right where he'd been sitting. "Gomer…" he breathed, once he could find his voice again. "You saved my life! I would've been a goner if you hadn't dragged me out of that hole!" He laughed, grateful to still be alive. It really did take a near-scrape with death to really appreciate life. He laid back on the ground, relaxed and smiling. "Thanks, buddy."

He suddenly winced as the pain emanating from his leg returned tenfold. "Okay, Gomer, you're hurting me. You can get off now."

No reply came. His friend didn't even stir.

A feeling of dread rose up within Duke. He strained to try to get a look at his friend's face. "Gome? Gomer, this isn't funny! Answer me!" He pushed against his friend's shoulder roughly.

Gomer's arm only flopped limply back in place.

Alarm bells sounded off in Duke's head. Something's happened to Gomer. _"No!" _He cried, wriggling out from underneath his friend painfully.

Once out, he sat up and reached down to grab his leg. He breathed deeply a few times, waiting for the pain to subside a bit before turning to his friend.

Gomer lay facedown in the dirt, his face hidden from Duke's view, his limbs splayed out awkwardly. Duke timidly scooted up closer to his head.

"Hey, Gome!" He snapped his fingers next to Gomer's face. "Look at me, buddy! Please!" His voice rose dangerously to a breaking point.

Slowly, he rested a hand on Gomer's shoulders and raised his head. His hands trembled and his face was ashen as he took in what he saw. "Oh, my gosh!"

In his effort to pull Duke out of the way and shield him safely, Gomer's head had come into contact with a massive boulder. The force of the blow had severed his helmet in two, the pieces falling to the ground when Duke moved him. Gomer had cracked his skull open, blood running down his face in droves as he lay unconscious on the ground.


	30. Duke Returns the Favor

**Chapter 30**

_Duke Returns the Favor_

Before Duke knew it, he was crying.

He didn't have any control over their steady flow. He had seen a lot of things since coming to Vietnam that were hard to stomach, but seeing his best friend in such a state was too much. "Oh, Gomer," he murmured, sitting back as everything blurred through his tears. He buried his head in his hands, as much ashamed as he felt guilty and disheartened. "Oh, Gomer!"

After several minutes that seemed an eternity to Duke, his tears finally subsided and he was able to turn to his friend once again. "I'm sorry, Gome. You never should have followed me." He sighed and gripped his friend's hand. He would have done anything at that moment to trade places with Gomer. Innocent, trusting Gomer, husband and father, had everything to lose where Duke had nothing. He sadly shook his head. "I swear I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you."

All of a sudden, Duke sat up with a start. Was it just his imagination, or had he just felt a pulse from Gomer's wrist? His heart soaring, Duke pressed tightly down on Gomer's wrist, propping his friend's arm up against his ear. Holding his breath, he waited.

There! Duke exalted a cry of joy as he felt the movement beneath his finger. Gomer was still alive! Dangerously slow, barely distinguishable, his friend's pulse still beat strong and true.

"Oh, thank you, God!" Duke cried happily. He turned once again toward his friend, this time with renewed purpose. "Gome, we got to get you to a doctor, right away!"

He moved to pick up his friend, but stopped and grimaced when he saw the pool of blood milling down and about Gomer's face. If he kept his face there, he was liable to drown in it. Duke gently moved Gomer's head away from the puddle and assessed the damage. It still was running too much too fast. He would have to stop the bleeding before Gomer went anywhere.

He reached inside his shirt and pulled out his coveted spare pair of socks. He held them against his friend's forehead in an attempt to staunch the blood flow. In a matter of moments, they had completely turned red.

This wasn't good. Duke cast about him aimlessly for something he could use to bandage the wound. Surely, _something…_

He grinned as he spied his injured leg. The pants leg enveloping his shattered shin was already torn and soaked with blood and sweat. It would be so easy to tear a strip off…

Reaching, grunting, wincing, he finally got into a position where he could reach the tattered sleeve. Slowly, carefully, so as not to disturb the wound, he ripped a portion of his uniform off and turned back to his friend. "All right, Gome. Let me get this bandaged up for you."

He slowly moved Gomer's torso until he was lying on his back, his head in Duke's lap. The corporal smiled down at the still, red face of his friend. "Never thought I'd end up playing nurse with you, eh, buddy? Now, I know I'm not as good-looking as a Donut Dolly, but I'm all you could get on such a short notice." If the situation hadn't been so dire, he might have laughed.

He sat and recalled everything about first aid he'd learned in his basic training days. Eventually, he was able to neatly wrap the makeshift bandage around Gomer's head. Securing it tightly, he smiled. "There. That oughta do for now."

He regarded his handiwork and shook his head. He wished Gomer were conscious. It would've made him feel a heck of a lot better. As it was, it didn't look like Gomer was waking up anytime soon. "Don't worry, buddy. If I got anything to do with it, you're going to be okay." That much he was resolved on. Even if it killed him, he would stop at nothing to help the dear friend that had saved his life.

_First, I gotta get on my feet, _Duke thought grimly. He looked about, searching the surrounding area for something he could use to pull himself up. A grenade exploded a few hundred yards away, startling Duke and reminding him that he didn't have much time.

_Come on, Slater. You've failed everyone else. You _can't _let Gomer down, too! _He frowned in determination. He turned to Gomer and pulled his prone form up to a sitting position, leaning him against the boulder he'd hit his head on. Duke grabbed onto the jagged rock as best he could, straining to pull himself up. He could feel the sharp points cutting into the flesh of his palms, but he welcomed the sensation. He felt like he was actually accomplishing the extraordinary feat when he cried out, his leg bumping along the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pain to subside. _Gosh, _I'm _not even supposed to be moved! How am I ever going to do this?_

He was halfway to a standing position, his hands gripping the large rock tightly. _Almost there, Slater. A few more inches and you can sit on the rock. _He sighed and pulled himself up with all of the strength left in him. He sagged with relief as he felt the rough surface beneath his seat. "Made it." He turned and looked down at his friend. "Hey, Gome! You awake yet?"

No answer. Gomer didn't even stir.

Duke sighed. "Don't worry, buddy. I'll get you out of here." Inwardly, he groaned. Why couldn't Gomer be awake? It would have made things so much easier!

He ducked as a grenade soared by his head and disappeared into the jungle behind him. _All right. It's now or never, Slater. _Gingerly, he put his one good foot on the ground. Easing himself off of the rock, he transferred all his weight to his left foot, holding the bloody mess that was his right foot above the ground. He clutched the rock for a few seconds longer, waiting to get adjusted to the change in balance. Then he let go, hobbling over to where Gomer still sat.

"Okay, Gome. Up you go." Duke murmured quietly. One hand holding the rock to keep himself steady, he reached down and gripped his friend's shoulder, pulling him up against the rock. He groaned under the exertion. "Man, you're heavy!"

A few more minutes passed in this manner before Gomer was finally sitting on the rock. Duke let go of his friend, catching his breath after the workout. As soon as he took his hand away, Gomer began to fall forward.

Duke's eyes widened. "Oh, no you don't!" He darted underneath to catch his friend, situating Gomer over his shoulder. He leaned against the rock with his right hand and held onto Gomer with his left, trying to figure out how in the world he was going to support both Gomer's weight _and _his own on only one foot.

_This is impossible! _His mind protested. He shook his head doggedly. _There's no other way, _his heart replied. Fixing his gaze, he straightened his back, let go of the rock, and pushed himself out into the blazing inferno.

-

Duke's progress was painfully slow. The weight was far too great for his single foot. He could only move a step every few seconds. The strain was evident in his face. "Bac si!" He cried, sidestepping cautiously to avoid an area under heavy bombardment. "Come on, doc! The Charlies won't get you! If you're careful," he murmured dejectedly. It was no use. If Gomer was to have any chance of receiving medical attention soon, Duke alone would have to drag them both to the nearest casualty clearing station.

How far was that, exactly? Duke shook his head. This had to be the longest day in his life.

He grew angry as he thought of his situation, slowly taking another cautious step forward. His friend was not a sack of potatoes! He didn't deserve being treated this way. Duke didn't know why he felt so angry. Perhaps the senseless killing around him had stirred in him a hot defense for the humanity of his companion. Gomer wasn't just any other person. He was Duke's best friend! Why else would he be taking such pains to save him?

Duke grunted, hopping another small step in help's direction. "Bet you haven't rode like this for a while, Gomer." He said. Who knew? Maybe Gomer would even answer him. "Last time…was when…you twisted your ankle on that hike..." He squeezed his eyes shut, the world turning red before them. Sweat weighed down heavily on his eyelids making even vision a strain. "…and the Sarge carried you…five miles…five miles. And he didn't have a broken leg!" He labored to catch his breath, the sun glaring relentlessly in his path of travel. He took another tiny step. "Man, I don't know if I can keep this up for five miles, buddy."

He couldn't think about the pain. This job would be twice as easier if he could just keep his mind off the pain. _Huh. So the talking benefits me as much as it does Gomer. _He closed his eyes and made another small hop. "Remember that time…you adopted that skunk?…Ralph, wasn't it?" He groaned and shifted the massive weight on his arm, taking another step. "Remember how he followed you everywhere, and Sergeant Carter couldn't yell at you because he thought he might get sprayed? That tortured him."

He felt Gomer slipping and quickly grabbed onto his legs, pulling him back. "Hang with me, Gomer." He intentionally kept his gaze averted from the large and gory pit, but he couldn't avoid hopping over the arm lying in his path. _Don't think about it…_ He swallowed the bile gathering in the back of his throat and concentrated on his next step. "Or how about that time…we lost that transmitter?…Boy, the Sarge sure was mad about that one…so was I…I thought it was all your fault…I shouldn't have been mad at you…after all, you were just trying to help that old lady out…" If he hadn't been under such enormous strain, Duke might have been able to voice a contemptuous laugh. All their past predicaments seemed petty compared to the one they were now in.

"All right, Gomer…just past those trees…it's there…" Duke grimaced and hobbled another step forward. "Okay, Gome. Remember the time you got the booty prize stuck on your foot?…and it took…all the guys…in the platoon…to yank it off…remember that?…and then…the Sarge…tried it on…and sat in the freezer…to get it off…cause he didn't want anyone to know?" He sighed, yelping a bit when he took another hop. "Sorry, bud. Almost home…"

He slowly reached up to wipe his eyes and squinted at the small outbuilding in the distance. "Look there, Gome…your help's just that far away…" The sun beaming right in his face blurred his vision, making the outpost appear closer than it really was.

He smiled, his grimy face cracking at the corners. His sunken eyes lit up with hope. "Look, Gome. There's a swimming pool out front…and a wet bar…oh, will you just look at those bathing beauties?" He whistled as he envisioned beautiful girls by the pristine water. "Gomer, we've stumbled across an oasis!" He eagerly took another hop forward.

The sun beat mercilessly down upon him. His helmet weighed down upon his head like a book. A thick, heavy, massive book. He felt his head droop forward. Did that foot look swollen through his boot?

He shook his head, willing himself to look up. _One…more…step… _He blindly jumped forward again. He just _had _to get his claim of those cuties before some Navy doctor came and whisked them away!

He smiled as one of them waved, gesturing for her friends to follow as she started running toward the duo.

Duke weakly raised his hand in greeting. "Look, Gome…they're…coming…to meet us."

His mind only on the swimsuit models running toward him, he stumbled and fell to the ground, Gomer toppling over on top of him. He cried out in pain and gripped the earth beneath him, digging into it with his fingernails.

He knew the girls had arrived when he heard movements and shouts above his head somewhere far away. He felt Gomer's weight being lifted from his back and he opened his mouth to protest. But he could not find his voice.

"We're going to turn you over so we can pick you up better, okay?" A female voice asked from somewhere amid the pandemonium surrounding his head. "Just stop us if it gets too painful."

A few pairs of hands slowly worked to get Duke over so he was lying on his back. He looked up with hazy eyes to see a girl outlined against the sinking western sun. His mouth curled up at the corners in a cockeyed smile. "Hey, beautiful…"

"He's delirious. Get them inside and have Jock look them over right away. These boys have been to Hell and back."

There was a flurry of movement when suddenly, Duke felt himself rising off the ground. He strangely felt unattached from his body, as if he were floating on the air in a state of limbo.

_Am I dead? _He wondered fleetingly before all went black.


	31. Missing, Believed Killed

**Chapter 31**

_Missing, Believed Killed_

Carter sat reading the latest list on his desk, staring at the paper incredulously. "No…it can't be." He said slowly, picking up his glasses and shoving them up his nose. He held the paper directly under the light of his lamp and studied the black type.

There was no mistaking it. He'd been correct when he'd first read the list, but he was still trapped in his daze of disbelief. There, plain to see on the paper, was clearly typed:

**'PYLE, Gomer. LCpl…missing, believed killed'**

And there, farther down the paper:

**'SLATER, Gilbert. Cpl…missing, believed killed'**

Carter took off his glasses and turned off the light, slowly setting the paper down on his desk. "I can't believe it…"

"Can't believe what, Vince?"

Carter looked up to see Sergeant Hacker carelessly leaning against the doorframe, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. Carter frowned. "What are you doing here, Charlie?"

Hacker shrugged. "Just thought you might want a chance to win back some of the money you lost playing gin with me the other night."

"Oh, never mind the cards, Charlie." Carter waved a hand in his direction disgustedly. "Have you read any of the latest casualty reports?" He slowly lifted the paper off of his desk.

"No. Haven't looked at one since Jenson was killed three months ago. Why?" Hacker shrugged. His corporal had been shipped off to Vietnam not long after Duke and Gomer had answered the call. Needless to say, Jenson hadn't been as lucky for as long as his contemporaries.

"You might want to take a look at this one." Carter murmured quietly, handing him the paper.

Hacker took the list and frowned. "Hey Vince, you feeling all right?"

Carter frowned. "Why wouldn't I?"

Hacker shrugged. "You look a little green, that's all. I was just asking."

"Well, that's none of your business, okay?" Carter threw his pencil down on the desk and massaged his temple while Hacker scanned over the report.

After a few moments, Hacker saw what had caught Carter's attention. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Well, well, well. Looks like your 'good ol' boys' took the same route Jenson did."

"Shut up, Hacker." Carter murmured listlessly.

"Those two were always a little screwy anyway. Didn't think you'd take it _this _hard." Hacker shook his head. "Does this mean no gin tonight?"

"How can you think about cards, Charlie?" Carter asked sadly, standing up and slowly moving over to the window. "I have to tell the girls. Lou Ann, she'll be heartbroken. They were almost outta there, too! Why'd those goofs have to go and do this to me, huh? Why, why?"

"Well, men have gone before them…and I guess they always will." Hacker shrugged.

"They're _not _dead!" Carter cried, spinning around to face Hacker. He pointed angrily. "They're MIA! I know war, Hacker! MIA is completely different from being dead!"

Hacker held up his hands defensively. "As you say. But it's not much better from…"

"Get outta here!" Carter gestured to the door. "Take your cards and go bug someone else. It's payday. Friendly Freddy's right outside the gate. He'll play cards with you! Go! Out, out, out!"

As soon as Hacker left, Carter poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot by the door, deep in thought. _Yeah, that's it. They're MIA. No one really knows _what's _happened to them! I could make inquiries…no, don't know enough people over there…maybe…nah, wouldn't work… _

He stopped, a smile spreading across his face. "Of course! Why didn't I think of it before?"

Carter dashed out the door, darting off for the officers' buildings as fast as he possibly could.

-

"Sergeant Carter, I wasn't expecting you here this evening." Colonel Grey stood behind his desk, studying the sergeant's stony face in contemplation. He looked down and shuffled the papers on his desk after dismissing the sergeant from attention. "I presume you've read the casualty reports for this month."

"Yes, sir."

Colonel Grey shook his head. "It's a shame about Pyle, isn't it? One of the best Marines this base has ever had."

_Are you kidding me? _Carter thought fleetingly before clearing his throat. "Uh, sir…that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering…do you know anyone over there who might be willing to help you out?"

Grey frowned and came around from behind his desk. "Well, there's one. Colonel Hanson. Old Naval Academy buddy of mine." He sat on the edge of his desk in front of Carter and folded his arms. "Why do you ask, Sergeant?"

"Sir, I know war…" Carter grimaced, willing himself to block out the memories flooding to the forefront of his mind. "And I know the difference between MIA and…" He looked down. He would _not _let the Colonel see him in such a state!

"Sergeant…you know the chances of finding them are next to none. The reports wouldn't list them as 'presumed dead' unless they're almost certain they've been killed." Grey shook his head. "In all probability, they'll never be found."

Carter gripped the desk until his knuckles turned white. He closed his eyes, breaking his concentrated stare on the floor. He swallowed with difficulty.

Grey raised his eyebrows in surprise. Sergeant Cater was professional, audacious, quick-tempered, and the hardest-nosed sergeant on the base. Never, _ever, _had he seen the sergeant so broken up. In fact, he looked close to crying!

"Sergeant, are you okay?" He asked gently.

"Yes, sir. Why shouldn't I be?" Carter snapped angrily.

Grey nodded. "Sergeant, why are you so upset about this?"

"I'm not upset!" Carter cried, shrugging fiercely, his face flushed red.

Grey sat silently, waiting for Carter to calm down. He didn't utter a word, just sat bearing his gaze down on the sergeant.

Carter squirmed under it and swiftly turned away. "I know, sir…how I'm always saying I'd be better off without Pyle, and Slater's nothing but a ladies' man, but…" He wrung his hands nervously and took up to pacing. "Sir, until those two took off for Vietnam, I was the only sergeant they ever had. _I _knew them when they were nothing but civilian recruits! _I _took them under my command, _I _turned them into the Marines they are today! For five years, I was their momma, their poppa, their big brother, and their dear Abby." He stopped and turned to face the Colonel. "Sir, I know them better than anyone else. They may be knuckleheads, but they're _my _knuckleheads!" He suddenly remembered his place and took a submissive step back. "Besides, Pyle made me promise him to take care of Lou Ann. Here," he took the note out of his breast pocket and unfolded it, handing it to the Colonel. "Take a look for yourself."

Grey glanced over the dog-eared letter written back in 1969 and slowly looked up. He saw sad resolve in the sergeant's eyes.

"Sir, if I'm to fulfill that promise, as I intend to…the greatest comfort Lou Ann could want is knowing exactly what happened to her husband."

Grey nodded grimly. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, sir." Carter stepped back and took back the note as Colonel Grey picked up the phone.

He turned the dial slowly and waited for a voice to come over the line. "Hello, overseas operator? I'd like to speak with Mitch Hanson, stationed over in sector six, South Vietnam."

-

Bunny quickly knocked on the Pyles' apartment door before slipping inside. "Lou Ann? You home?"

She found Mrs. Pyle slowly backing out from the hallway into the living room, hunched over with her camera in front of her at the ready. "Hey, Bunny. You're just in time. Look at this!"

They waited. A few moments passed before Vincent entered the room, his eyes sparkling as he broke into a wide grin. He took another few steps toward his mother, who quickly snapped a picture of him in action.

"Vinny's walking!" Bunny cried happily. "Look at how big he is! And not even a month till his birthday!"

Vincent clapped his hands in pleasure. "Bunny!" He cried, laughing.

Lou Ann smiled at him lovingly, picking him up and cradling him in her arms. "I baby-proofed the house this mornin'. Morgan came over an' sat with him while I went to work. She said he was so much trouble, gettin' into ever'thing like he always does. I guess the gates weren't enough."

Bunny laughed and shook her head. "That's Vinny for you, always the curious one." She tickled his stomach and gasped when he giggled in reply. "When did he get those pretty little teeth?"

"Didn't you know? He started teethin' only a couple of months ago. It jus' took him so long for them to finally erupt all the way." Lou Ann smiled down at him. "The doctor was gettin' worried. Now they're finally startin' to come in."

"Oh, my goodness! Vinny's a big boy now!" Bunny cooed lovingly, making the baby laugh again.

"I know. Ain't he jus' wonderful?" Lou Ann sighed happily, hugging him close. "Gomer's gonna be so proud when he gets the pitcher!"

Bunny froze, her face falling. "Oh. Um, Lou Ann…about that…"

"Yes?" She looked up from where she was bouncing Vincent. Her eyes held an anxious intensity about them. "Did Sergeant Carter get another letter from Gomer?"

Bunny slowly shook her head. "Well…no…"

At that moment, the door slammed and Morgan dashed up to the two matrons, breathless. "Oh, Lou Ann! I came as soon as I could! Isn't it awful?"

Lou Ann didn't have any time to respond. Startled by the loud slam of the door, Vincent began wailing, demanding all of his mother's attention.

"Did my little Vinny get frightened?" Lou Ann cooed, patting his back soothingly. "Vinny is a funny boy. He thinks ever'thing's a toy. The world is his should he desire. May he never be a liar…" She chanted soothingly. When Gomer was there with them, he had sung to Vincent to calm him down. Lou Ann was utterly toneless as a singer, so she instead came up with a poem to recite to him. Often times, it would work just as well as a song.

Morgan shook her head, tears gracing the corners of her eyes. "Lou Ann, I think I'm more sorry for you than I am for me!" She slowly came up and hugged her friend.

Lou Ann started in surprise and looked down at her friend. "Morgan, what's wrong?"

"That's what I came to tell you!" Bunny cried sadly.

"It's…it's the boys. Gomer and Duke. They're missing." Morgan sobbed.

-

Lou Ann hurried up to the gates of Camp Henderson, where the MP on duty stopped her.

"Got a pass, ma'am?"

"No…" Lou Ann peered desperately over his shoulder. "Will you please let me in? I'm here on very urgent business."

"Visitor?" The guard asked. "We can have someone escort you to the rec room, then. But ma'am, it's really not ideal visiting hours. I don't really know if we'll be allowed to let you in."

"But I got to see Sergeant Carter!" Lou Ann cried. "I jus' got to!"

The MP relented a bit and turned from his post. "Okay. I'll see what I can do." He murmured, signaling to the sergeant of the guard.

-

"Wait here and I'll see if he's available." A private told her, gesturing for her to sit down in the rec room before leaving for the duty hut.

"Ohh…" Lou Ann softly sat down in one of the chairs, biting down hard on her quavering lip. _Why don't he come? _She squirmed in her seat, able to contain her anxiety for only a minute and a half before it became too much for her. She leapt out of her seat and ran toward the duty hut.

The private who'd escorted her in was standing in the doorway as she approached. "…visitor here to see you, Sarge."

"Well, who is it?" A voice asked from within, just as Lou Ann burst into the room. She sprinted over to his desk, leaning against it for support.

"Sergeant Carter! Where's Gomer? What's happened to him?!" She cried anxiously.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be in here!" The private protested.

Carter waved the private away. "It's okay, Hamilton. I'll take her in here."

The private shrugged and headed back for the barracks.

"Sergeant Carter, please tell me! I got to know, Sergeant Carter, please!" Lou Ann gazed at him imploringly, tears already starting to trickle down her cheeks.

Carter sighed. "Sit down, Lou Ann. I'll tell you what I've found out."

Her heart in her throat, Lou Ann turned and absentmindedly sat in the chair stationed by the door. She gripped her hands together so tightly they turned white. All the while, she could not keep her distressed gaze off of the sergeant.

Carter had been dreading this moment more than he'd ever dreaded anything in his life. He couldn't meet her eyes, so he looked down at his desk instead. "I…" He paused to clear his throat. "I was able to get through and make inquiries, limited as they were, over in Vietnam. They didn't want to disclose any information to me, but…"

"Please tell me, Sergeant Carter. I cain handle any news, as long as it's news."

Carter sadly looked up. "Pyle and Slater were checked into a casualty clearing station ten miles away from their assigned encampment and base, where they were being treated for critical injuries they received in combat. I couldn't find out whether or not they're still alive."

"Gomer's hurt?" Lou Ann exclaimed in horror.

"That doesn't leave this room!" Carter said sternly. "Look, Lou Ann, I just told you not only military information, but _classified _military information! And you a civilian! If anyone finds out you know, it could mean my position, if not my career in the Marine Corps!"

Lou Ann forced a smile. "Of course. I appreciate your tellin' me, Sergeant Carter." She slowly stood and moved over to the desk, laying a hand on his arm. "I thank you for all the trouble you've gone to for my sake."

Carter nodded. "I'm sorry, Lou Ann…Pyle…well, he's Pyle. There'll never be another one like him."

"That's for sure." She replied quietly.

-

Lou Ann took the back route on leaving the duty hut, careful to make sure no one saw her as she hurried toward the officers' quarters.

She could see the Colonel's office. She hurried toward it anxiously. She had almost arrived when Sergeant Hacker stepped in her path, intercepting her.

"Well, well, well. Mrs. Pyle. What are you doing out here without an escort? This is a military base, you know. Civilians just can't go running about rampant!" He smirked nastily.

"Oh, please, Sergeant Hacker! I've got to see the Colonel!" Lou Ann cried.

Hacker nodded. "Just heard about Pyle, eh? I'm sorry. No pass, no Pyle, no permission. Would you like me to escort you to the gate?"

Lou Ann tried to resist him, but he roughly pulled her along toward the exit.

"You're trespassing on federal territory. That's punishable by law. You're lucky, getting off as easy as this." Hacker strode forcefully, smiling as he pulled the reluctant woman toward the gate.

"But…but…" she stammered, trying to grab someone else's attention.

"Personally, I would say that Camp Henderson is no longer any of your business. Go home and baby-sit your kid. Thank you and plan a legal visit next time." Sergeant Hacker left her out by the roadside, closing the metal gate behind him with finality.

"Ohhh…" She stomped the ground in frustration. How was she _ever _going to see Colonel Grey now?

She stepped away from the road and turned as a car came by, ready to go through the gate. She might as well make her way to the bus stop and get a ride back into town. It was getting close to Vinny's dinner time, anyway.

She took a few steps toward the bench down the road when, to her surprise, the car slowed down next to her, the driver's window rolling down.

"Lou Ann?"

She turned, her face lighting up as she recognized the driver. "Sergeant Carol!"

"What are you doing out here? Aren't you here visiting Gomer?"

Lou Ann smiled ruefully and shrugged. "Well…not exactly…"

US Marine Sergeant Carol Baines stopped her car and patted the empty passenger seat next to her. "Come on, sit down."

Lou An eagerly accepted the invitation and got in next to Carol. Sergeant Baines was a very commanding and demanding woman. She and Lou Ann hadn't gotten off to the greatest of starts. A misunderstanding had created some tense feelings, but it was soon sorted out. Gomer was the middleman that kept the two together, and Carol had been a loyal friend ever since.

"Well, I haven't seen you in forever! How've you been doing? Got a date tonight? It's Friday." Carol leaned forward and smiled.

Lou Ann blushed and looked down at her lap. "Actually, Gomer an' I are married now."

Carol gasped. "Oh, my goodness! Why didn't you tell me? That's wonderful! I had no idea you two were newlyweds!" She smiled.

Lou Ann, still embarrassed, kept her gaze averted. "Actually, it'll be two years this June."

"Well, what do you know?" Carol sat back, dumbfounded. "You two really got busy after I last saw you!"

It was then that Lou Ann finished catching Carol up. She went over everything, from Gomer's promotion to Vincent's birth to Gomer being deployed to Vietnam. She also intimated, in the most delicate of terms, that Gomer was missing in action and could possibly be hurt.

When she was finished, Carol could only shake her head. "That's some story."

"Sergeant Carol, I jus' have to see Colonel Grey. If Gomer's hurt…" She swallowed her tears, sighing heavily. "I jus' got to see him."

Carol nodded. "I know just what you mean. You have to stand by your man. I see why you're married. That's serious commitment there, girl."

"But I cain't get in!" Lou Ann buried her face in her hands. "Gomer needs me! What am I gonna do?"

Carol thought for a minute before a smile slowly spread across her face. "Say, I've got an idea…"

-

Lou Ann strode confidently toward the Colonel's office, dressed in Sergeant Carol's blue Marine uniform. With the exception of the MP standing guard at the gate, nobody had even asked to see her pass onto the base. She smiled and moved even more quickly toward the Colonel's office. She blended right in with her surroundings. The uniform was the perfect disguise!

A private washing windows by the stairs paused to salute her. "Oh," she murmured softly, a bit taken aback. She stopped short and awkwardly saluted him, worried that she had blown her cover. But to her relief, the private only turned back to his detail.

Lou Ann quickly ascended the stairs and entered the office building.

"Sergeant Baines here to see Colonel Grey." She said softly to the secretary, who nodded.

She anxiously took a seat in the reception room, her heart in her throat. She fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair, waiting for what seemed like hours. She had to block unwelcome images of Gomer injured from her mind. Otherwise, she would have gone crazy for sure.

After a seemingly long wait, the secretary put down her phone and turned to Lou Ann. "The Colonel will see you now, Sergeant."

Lou Ann stood and slowly walked into the office. Colonel Grey stood upon her arrival and looked at her expectantly.

She closed the door and faltered, staring at the floor.

"Sergeant, where is your etiquette?" Grey demanded sternly.

Lou Ann looked up, startled. "Um…" She quavered fearfully. Now that she stood here before him, she was intimidated by his stony glare and professional, curt tone. The Colonel was a formidable man, and right now he looked far from friendly. "Sir, I have to tell you somethin'…"

"Who dismissed you, Sergeant? You're standing in the presence of your superior officer! Come here!" Grey bellowed. He was quickly losing his patience with the woman Marine, who could seem to do nothing but quake in the corner, staring at him.

Lou Ann shrugged and carefully stepped forward, still wary of the man behind the desk.

"Stand up straight and salute, for heaven's sake!" He exclaimed when she stood there quietly for another minute.

She complied uncertainly and waited for his next order.

"State your name," he replied gruffly, sitting back down in his chair.

She cleared her throat timidly. "Mrs. Lou Ann Pyle, sir."

Colonel Grey looked up sharply, slowing standing. "Mrs. Pyle, I…they said…where did you get that uniform? What are you doing here?"

"I'm so sorry, but this is the only way I was able to see you." Lou Ann replied quietly.

Colonel Grey stared down at her in concern. "Whose uniform is that?"

Lou Ann dared to sneak a glance up at the Colonel. "Sergeant Carol Baines'. She is a good friend of…of Gomer an' me."

Grey nodded. "I see. This is about your husband, isn't it?"

"Umm-hmm." Lou Ann nodded.

He smiled. "I appreciate your concern. However, I'm afraid I'm just as in the dark as you are…"

"Scuse me, sir. I didn't come all this way to be rejected." For the first time, she met his eyes and held them. _I know more than you think, _her gaze told him pointedly.

Grey sighed. "I think you'd better sit down."

Lou Ann took her seat and waited for him to begin expectantly.

Grey frowned, staring down at the paperwork on his desk. "Pyle's still alive."

Lou Ann jumped out of her chair, exalting a cry of joy. Grey held up his hand.

"Barely. He's been in a coma ever since he was injured, according to the reports given by Corporal Slater. The doctors are doing everything they can, but the new patients keep coming in. Who knows if it'll be enough?"

Lou Ann shook her head. "I got to go to him."

He smiled wanly. "I'm afraid that's impossible."

"Many things are said to be impossible that really ain't." She arched her brows, kicking the chair aside with her toe. "If a man cain go to the moon an' back, then sure as rain I cain go to Vietnaam."

Grey stood. "Mrs. Pyle, I don't think you understand…"

Lou Ann smiled at him. "Oh, I understand you well enough, Colonel. You ain't gonna help me, no matter how much I beg you. But there's more than one way to skin a cat." She turned and started for the door.

"What do you mean?" Grey called.

Lou Ann stopped and turned back around. "I only mean that you cain't stop me from gettin' on a boat an' makin' my way across the Pacific to Vietnaam. An' once I reach the mainland, I'll walk a hundred miles an' cut through the jungle if I have to. But I _will _reach Gomer."

Grey gestured once again to the vacant chair. "Maybe we'd better talk."

Lou Ann raised her chin triumphantly. "Yes. Let's."

-

Their settlement worked out perfectly, Lou Ann reflected, as she sat in the seat of the Army intelligence helicopter. Colonel Grey had arranged with one of his friends for Lou Ann to be taken to her husband. In return, she was not to breathe a word about it to anyone. She'd hastily made arrangements for Bunny and Morgan to take care of Vincent before she left, making up the story of some sick relative back in Turtle Creek. From there, she'd been transported to an army base not too far up the coast. She'd been shown to an airplane and they'd lifted off. That had been several hours ago. In Saigon, she'd transferred to a helicopter that was now airlifting her to the clearing station. It was all hushed up as well as could be, with as few people as possible being involved. But she could only be grateful she'd secured such measures to be reunited with Gomer once again.

_Colonel Grey is such a nice man, _Lou Ann thought idly as she looked out the window at the jungle below. _No wonder Gomer's had nuthin' but nice things to say about him…_

A small cry escaped her as she thought of Gomer in a coma. She closed her eyes and willed the image to go away. _He'll be all right. I'm comin'. By the time I'm there, he'll prob'ly have already woke up._

But as she sat telling herself these things, she knew she was only kidding herself.

-

"This way, Mrs. Pyle." A nurse gestured for her to follow inside. The staff at the clearing station had been alerted of her arrival by Colonel Hanson, and instructed to grant her access to her husband's 'room.' It was a strange circumstance. No civilian had ever been admitted into a medical outbuilding in the middle of a war. But the order had come from the Colonel himself so there was no questioning it. This Mrs. Pyle must be a very important person.

"Please turn your head this way as we make our way down the corridor." The nurse indicated the far wall, which Lou Ann kept her gaze trained on. The nurse was doing this so she wouldn't have to look at all the injured and dying men waiting to be treated that were lain up against the other wall. She knew, because she heard their sickly and desperate moans that gave her chills and set her stomach to churning. The prevailing scent in the small outbuilding was one of gangrene and antiseptic, which added to her discomfort greatly. Everything all whirling about her at once, Lou Ann was afraid she'd faint before she got to Gomer. This was no place for a lady. As she looked at the woman clad in green fatigues that assertively led the way, she wondered how the nurse managed to keep her head and do her job.

After walking and turning down several small corridors, the nurse finally paused and held open one of the curtains that lined the walls. "Here you are, Mrs. Pyle."

Lou Ann nodded gratefully and stepped inside.

She'd gotten her wish. But with one look at Gomer, she immediately wished she hadn't. Her hands flew up to her mouth in horror and her knees buckled unsteadily. "What's happened to him?" She cried.

"Lance Corporal Pyle is one of our better patients. He's one of only about twenty here with a stabilized condition." The nurse replied from the curtain.

"But he looks terrible! He ain't even cleaned up!" Lou Ann hastened to the bedside, gazing despondently at her husband.

His uniform lay in a soiled heap on the floor beside his bed, his identification tags situated on top of the sweaty mess. In her haste, Lou Ann had sat right on top of the pile. She was only able to give the items a fleeting glance before turning back to the figure on the cot.

Aside from the glaring white bandage on his head, it seemed as though the doctors hadn't bothered to do anything else for Gomer. Aside from the portion of his forehead they'd cleaned to treat, his face was still covered with dust, dirt, grime, ash, powder, sweat and blood. Lou Ann could hardly recognize him under the thick layer of filth. A growth of beard poked up through the covering on his face, refusing to be completely hidden from view. He wore a plain nightgown and an IV on his arm. A machine hooked up to his nose supplied him oxygen. She made a motion to take his hand, but on turning it over realized it was just as dirty as his face. She instead gingerly reached up and brushed back his hair to get a better look at the wound.

The short hairs felt funny beneath her fingers. She dropped her hand and looked to see what had felt so wrong. Then she identified the change. They had cut away his stray strands so they no longer covered up the bandaged area. Lou Ann sighed and gently ran her finger over the top of the wrap.

"It took us twenty-seven stitches to put that one back together again."

Lou Ann looked up, startled. She breathed a sigh of relief to see that one of the Navy doctors had entered the curtained-off section. "You caught me by surprise, Doctor. I'm terribly sorry."

"That's quite all right." He nodded. "One of my staff told me you had arrived." He slowly walked over to her and extended his hand. "Dr. Henry Garrison at your service."

"Lou Ann Pyle." She replied evenly, shaking his hand. "Um, might you know…who…?" She floundered helplessly.

The doctor quickly caught her meaning. "Yes, I was the surgeon who took care of your husband, Mrs. Pyle."

"Took care?!" She exclaimed. "He looks terrible! He ain't even cleaned up!" She had to swallow her tears to keep them from surfacing.

Sensing her pain and indignation on the topic, the doctor gently took her by the arm and sat her down. "Mrs. Pyle, I know that it seems a bit cold to you. But we've done everything we could. There are lots of patients that need our help more so than your husband does, ma'am. We're about thirty-six hours behind in terms of such a small staff. We're currently losing about two men a minute. As soon as we see they're out of immediate danger, we have to move on. I've wired for backup, but who knows when they'll get here." He sighed and shook his head. "However, if the Colonel cleared you, you're welcome to stay."

Lou Ann nodded resignedly.

At that moment, a nurse poked her head through the door. "Jock, you're wanted in surgery."

"I'll be right there." He called before turning back to Lou Ann. "You will excuse me?"

Lou Ann nodded. "Of course. I'll…I'll stay." She gestured to the bed. "With him."

"All right." The doctor stood and followed the nurse down the curtained corridor.

As soon as she was left alone again, Lou Ann got up and moved over to the washbasin situated next to the cot. There were no clean towels to be found, so she wet a tissue she'd found inside her purse instead. Carefully wringing it out so it remained damp, she kneeled down by Gomer's head and gently began washing his face.

-

Two and a half hours, and fifty-six tissues later, she'd rubbed Gomer's skin completely clean. Lou Ann gently cradled his head and sighed heavily. She'd thought that cleaning him up would help her feel better, but it only served to make her feel worse. She didn't know what her problem was.

He wasn't answering her. That was it. He wasn't her Gomer. Here before her was nothing but the empty shell of his person. And there were no guarantees that he was ever coming back. The heavy prospect weighed down on Lou Ann like a rain cloud ready to burst.

The tears swiftly began to roll down her cheeks as she laid her head against his. "Oh, Gomer," she sobbed. "Where have you gone? An' why won't you come back to me?"


	32. Keep Holding On

**Chapter 32**

_Keep Holding On_

"I heard what happened." Lou Ann murmured as she stood over the bed. "Thank you for savin' Gomer's life, Duke."

The corporal grimaced and tried to move. His broken leg was suspended in a cast above the bed, making movement practically impossible. "It's what he did for me. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him."

"Well, he wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." Lou Ann replied, smiling.

"How is he?" Duke asked.

Lou Ann sadly shook her head. "No change."

"Man…" He sighed heavily.

"He'll be okay." She whispered. "An' I'm so glad Gomer's got a best friend like you." She leaned down and gently kissed his cheek.

Duke tried as best he could to shrug. "Thanks for checking up on me, Lou Ann."

Lou Ann smiled. "Actually, I ain't the only one."

"What do you mean?"

"Morgan, silly!" Lou Ann smiled. "She's been worried sick about you!"

"Really?" A smile slowly spread across his face. "And I thought she wasn't into me."

"She's been over askin' after you ever' single day. Why, when we heard you was missin', she was jus' heartbroke!" Lou Ann explained happily. "I think she cares more'n she lets on."

The nurse appeared in the doorway. "Mrs. Pyle…" She glanced at her watch, indicating the visiting hours were up.

"Goodbye, Duke." Lou Ann pressed his hand and stood, moving toward the door.

"Lou Ann…"

She stopped and turned back around to face the bed. "Yes, Duke?"

"You make sure Gomer gets better." He pointed at her listlessly. "I stuck my neck out getting him back here. I don't think I could take losing him now."

-

"An' Cousin Goober wrote about one of the cats chewin' on the gas pumps an' makin' a terrible mess." Lou Ann smiled bravely and gripped her husband's hand. She'd prattled on for about an hour, giving him all the latest news out of Mayberry. "An' Andy wrote that Barney tried to repair a broken pipe in the courthouse an' endin' up floodin' the place." She turned to him and sighed. "Well, what you got to say about that?"

No answer. Gomer hadn't stirred a bit.

"Well, maybe you'll be pleased to know that Vincent's got a real motor on him now. He jus' runs all around the house, climbin' an' gettin' into all sorts of things. Such a playful little boy, he is." She smiled and reached inside her purse. "I brought some more pitchers of him for you." She wove them into his hands so he clasped them as well as he could. "He's so wonderful. I don't know what I'd do without Vinny. He's the highlight of my life now. He reminds me so much of you."

She gently held his arm and gazed at the photographs he held in his hands lovingly. "You'd be so proud of him, Gomer. I'm so glad we have him. An' jus' think how we might not have had him. Remember how it always used to be on our dates, Gomer?" She got a dreamy look across her face as her mind wandered back over the years…

-

_"Let's see what your fortune cookie said."_

_Gomer held up the plate for Lou Ann to reach, and she took it gratefully. They had gone out to eat at a local Chinese restaurant. Gomer loved Chinese food, almost as much as he loved Southern. They had both eaten themselves full._

_She took the cookie and cracked it open, suppressing a giggle. Of all the fortunes she could get, she'd gotten this one!_

_"Somethin' good?" Gomer asked eagerly._

_"Oh, it's silly." She replied quietly._

_"What's it say?"_

_"It's silly, Gomer." She raised her head and risked a glance in his direction before turning back to the fortune, trying to keep the color from rising in her cheeks. "It's jus' plain old silly."_

_"Sometimes they're not so silly. Sometimes it's amazin' how close they come to your actual life." Gomer's eyes lit up eagerly. "Let me see it."_

_She obligingly handed it over and clasped her hands together anxiously. She found it hard to keep her gaze fixed on Gomer since reading the fortune._

_" 'You an' your loved one are about to make the decision of a lifetime.'" Gomer's face fell as he read the slip of paper aloud. He looked up at Lou Ann, then back at the table again. He, too, suddenly felt flustered after reading what the cookie had to say._

_"Isn't that silly?" Lou Ann asked, sneaking a glance his way._

_"Well…" Gomer smiled. "I…I guess this one is kind of silly."_

_Lou Ann's brows knit together angrily, frowning at Gomer in disappointment. "What?"_

_"I mean…well, we both decided we'd make that decision after I got out of the Marine Corps." Gomer slowly explained, looking at Lou Ann with mild surprise, hoping to appease her. "That's the reason it's kind of silly."_

_"Well, don't you think it's jus' as silly not to talk about somethin' that we're goin' to talk about anyhow?" Lou Ann cocked her head at him, encouraging him to step forth into the discussion._

_"Golly, Lou Ann. you know how I feel about you, an' well…makin' that kind of decision would mean that you'd have to give up your freedom an' I jus' don't think that's fair." Gomer shrugged helplessly._

_"Are you sayin' you want me to go out and date other fellas?" Lou Ann's eyes widened incredulously as she leaned forward over the table. She couldn't believe what she was hearing._

_"Well, no, Lou Ann! It's jus' that…I don't think it's fair to ask you _not _to," Gomer looked down sadly. He never knew what to say when he got trapped in this kind of conversation. And he could tell by the way Lou Ann's eyes were flashing that he wasn't handling it too well. _

_"I see." She said coolly._

_Gomer stuttered helplessly, trying to find the right words. But they wouldn't come. He looked down at the table for inspiration and his eyes lit up when he caught sight of the other cookie. "Hey! How about if I read my fortune cookie to you?"_

_He cracked it open and pulled out the slip of paper inside. It was bound to be better than Lou Ann's. _Anything _was better than Lou Ann's!_

_He risked a glance her way and saw that she was still looking coolly in the distance. Maybe, by proving her how silly these fortunes were, she wouldn't be so mad at him!_

_" 'A wise man keeps his ears open an' his mouth shut.'" Gomer's shoulders slumped. He'd really put his foot in it this time! He smiled and laughed, trying his best to shrug it off. "Isn't that silly?"_

_-_

Lou Ann stroked his cheek and shook her head lovingly. "I'm glad we made that decision, Gomer. Otherwise, we might not have gotten…our chance…" She sniffed. "An' I cain't imagine my life without Vincent anymore. I love bein' a mother, Gomer. I truly don't regret…a single decision we made…An' I'm glad we got as far as this." She laid her head down next to his, squeezing her eyes to force back the tears that were fighting to fall.

"Gomer," she whispered quietly in his ear, "I'm pregnant again. I was waitin' for the chance to tell you in person, but I might not get that now."

She pulled back from him and smiled slowly. "Ain't that wonderful news?"

The silence was almost too much for her to bear. Oh, why didn't he say something?

Anxiety rising up within her, she fearfully gazed down at the bed. "No matter if you never say another word again…" She bit her quavering lip until it bled. "I wanted you to know. An' I'll always be grateful to you for givin' me my children…" She looked at the ceiling as her voice rose and broke. It shattered her heart to see him like this. She just couldn't take it any longer. "An' I'll always love you," she murmured, leaning down and gently cupping his face with her hands. She tenderly kissed his lips, imagining him as he once was, so vibrant and happy and full of life.

"You've been reading too many fairy tales. That won't wake him up."

Lou Ann whirled around to face Dr. Garrison. She blushed and looked at the floor. "It…it was worth a try, at least."

He smiled. "You've been in here all night. The nurses have some coffee brewing down by the disinfectant room. I've gotta run some tests and checks with Pyle here, so he'll be fine."

She nodded reluctantly, refusing to meet his gaze. "That sounds fine. Thank you." Her voice held an eerie, faraway twinge to it that made her sound as if it were unattached from herself. "Would you mind too much pointin' me in the right direction?" She wasn't even cognizant of what had come out of her mouth. It was as if she were working on pure reflexes, and it scared her.

"Certainly, Mrs. Pyle." The doctor gently took her arm and escorted her to the doorway. He pointed up the aisle. "You go down this corridor and make a left. It's right at the end of the hall."

She nodded absently. "Doctor…what's it gonna take to wake him up?"

Garrison sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "The matters of the brain and the subconscious are fairly new to us in our medical research. We don't really know _what _causes our minds to do what they do. He may just wake up of his own accord, or he may never wake up. We just don't know. Even if he does, he could encounter problems with speech, motor skills, memory…And it may be temporary or permanent. There are so many scenarios, but I really don't know the answer."

She looked down and swallowed the lump in her throat. "I see. It don't look good for Gomer, does it?"

"I was telling you the truth when I said we were doing everything we could the other day." Garrison gave her a small smile. "Sometimes you have to look beyond the reaches of science for a miracle."

"Umm." She nodded.

"Keep your fingers crossed and beg God for a little help. That's all you really can do at this point."

She slowly exited the room and made her way to the small alcove by the disinfectant room. The nurses smiled up at her encouragingly as she entered. She felt so small and out of place that she could only pause uncomfortably in the doorway. "Hello?"

"It's all right, ma'am. You can come in." One of the nurses set an empty box on the floor next to the table and indicated for her to sit down.

"Thank you." She replied quietly, slowly sitting down. She looked around the table at the faces of the other women sipping coffee. They poured some of the black liquid into a tin mug for her, which she accepted gratefully. Their faces were lined and grim. The slowness of their movements and the circles under their eyes indicated they were probably running on nothing but the coffee.

"How's Sleepy?" One of them asked, smiling. She had a wide, friendly face and an array of freckles scattered over her nose. Her short brown hair barely peeked out from beneath her forage cap.

"Sleepy?" Lou Ann asked, smiling.

"We've got too many patients to keep their names straight. So we just use nicknames. Last I heard, you were a relation of Sleepy's. The guy in the coma. Isn't that right?"

"Oh, I'm no relation. I'm jus' his wife." Lou Ann replied innocently.

The nurse laughed and extended her hand. "You've earned my regard, Mrs…"

"Call me Lou Ann." She shook hands firmly and smiled shyly. "Thank you for lookin' after Sleepy, um…"

"Call me Millie." The nurse replied.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Millie." Lou Ann lifted the dented cup and took a sip. She grimaced and quickly put the tin of black liquid down on the table. She swallowed painfully before looking up at the nurses. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry." She murmured in embarrassment.

"That's all right, honey." Millie waved a hand dismissively, grinning. "It took us some getting used to. We all hate the stuff. Three tours in Vietnam and not one of us knows how to make a decent pot of coffee!"

When the laughs had subsided, she cocked her head imploringly at Lou Ann. "Something's bothering you, sister. I can tell by the look on your face. What's eatin' at ya?"

"It's nuthin', really." Lou Ann looked down and tapped at her cup listlessly.

"Now, as the whale said when he saw Jonah sitting on the beach, 'I ain't swallowing that.'" Millie smiled. "Come on. It's just me and Edna and Margie here." She gestured to her two companions. "We're all ears."

"It…it's silly." Lou Ann turned away bashfully. "You'll think I'm jus' bein' silly."

"If there's one thing I've learned in my line of work, it's that nothing is silly." Millie put a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong, girl?"

Lou Ann shook her head, slumping her shoulders dejectedly. "Well…it's jus' that…Gomer ain't doin' too well!"

"Sleepy? Come on." The nurse handed Lou Ann a handkerchief and gave her a small smile. "He's doing great! Jock says he's in excellent condition, considering all he's been through. He's just asleep, that's all. His mind got a little frazzled out there, so it just up and decided to take a vacation. But it'll come back. Sleepy will wake up, Lou Ann. When he's ready, he'll wake up."

"And then he'll probably be Grumpy, with our luck." Edna piped up.

Lou Ann laughed. "No, no. My Gomer's more like Dopey."

Millie shrugged. "You heard it here first, folks. Wives tell all: American GIs are dopey."

"Wait till Mary hears this one." Margie groaned.

"Well, he is." Lou Ann declared, immediately rising to his defense. "An' that's why I love Gomer. He's sweet, an' innocent, an' trusting…"

"Sweet? Innocent?" Millie raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I've been watching these soldiers cuss a blue streak on their deathbeds. They ain't sweet and innocent. Nobody can be sweet and innocent after going through what they have."

"Gomer's different." Lou Ann said simply, turning away. She didn't want the nurses to see the spark of doubt they had reawakened with their words. What if he _was _different when he woke up? How would she handle it? What if it was permanent?

She slowly shook her head. She'd rather see Gomer dead than devoid of his unshakable wholesomeness. It was what made him…him. It was what defined him in everything he did, said, and felt. It was what had made her fall in love with him. It was what she saw in her son every time she looked into his wide brown eyes. And she would rather cherish the memories of what he was than have to deal with what he might be.

"I'm sorry, Lou Ann. the girls and me were just having a little fun. You okay?" Millie's face softened in gentle concern.

"Actually, I am." Lou Ann turned back around and smiled complacently.

"Do you want me to take you back to Sleepy's room?"

"Actually, I don't. Though I thank you for the offer." Lou Ann looked down at her hands in her lap. "Actually, well…I don't like bein' in there, all the time. I get to feelin' so helpless, like there's nuthin' I cain do…" She swallowed. "An' I know Gomer wouldn't have wanted me sittin' idle when so many of his friends was, well…" Her voice trailed off.

"What are you saying, girl?" Millie asked, confused.

Lou Ann looked up and met her eyes bravely. "The doctor said you was in need of volunteers."

-

Soon, all of the details were worked out. Lou Ann was issued a uniform and she took her spot alongside the other nurses working in the casualty clearing station. She checked up on her husband by the hour, but she couldn't bear to be in there with him any longer. She had to do something. She had to help. And if she couldn't help Gomer, she could help his comrades.

The doctor had been hesitant at first to let Lou Ann take a nursing position. After all, a matron with child had no place as a Red Cross volunteer. But the staff was so short, and so many more men kept coming in, that he couldn't refuse the offer.

Of course, there were things she saw that abhorred her at first, but soon she could look on the soldiers with nothing but sorrow and sympathy. So many of them were far worse off than Gomer. It pained her to think of the women behind these men, women just like her in situation that would not end up so lucky. Mothers, sweethearts, wives and children all would be devastated when they heard of each man's fate. The prospect only made her work twice as hard to save as many as she could.

Lou Ann was, surprisingly, a better than average nurse. She threw herself wholeheartedly into her work, tending to each of the patients she saw with as much care and attention as if they were Gomer himself. Her complacent demeanor and soft voice put the men's fears to rest, and she was able to work both swiftly and carefully with their quiet compliance. She did it all, from attending the doctor in surgery to taking blood and urine samples to writing letters home as dictated by incapacitated soldiers. She even stayed late on her shift rolling bandages and checking up on the men. There was even a rumor of her entering a room to see a bedridden soldier choking on his wad of tobacco. Upon seeing this, she had calmly breezed to his side and rested a hand on his shoulder. Then she had proceeded to reach down the man's throat and retrieve the troublesome wad with the other. The other nurses were awed by the calm and quiet bravery she brought to her work. The men affectionately referred to her as 'Mother Superior.' Indeed, she held the air of one who knew what she was doing and planned her actions with the utmost care. But Lou Ann didn't think of what she did as anything more than reacting accordingly to what the situations had called for. One day was much like another to her. Her only diversion in her long shifts and endless work was getting to know better the men whom Gomer had fought alongside. In the process, she began to gather an understanding of what they'd been through.

Lou Ann sighed heavily as she looked down at Gomer on her last look-in. He still had yet to regain consciousness. Her heart sank into the same helpless despondence that befell her every afternoon. She couldn't bear seeing him like this!

Stooping down next to the cot, as was her custom, she gently placed a hand on his arm and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Gomer. Please wake up soon."

With that, she turned and left the room. She found Millie out in the corridor, waiting for her anxiously.

Lou Ann started in surprise on seeing her friend, pulling at the hem of her green nylon uniform subconsciously. "Why, Millie! What's wrong?"

"I want you to take a look at one of the patients that just rolled in. He's…I don't know. Different. The girls aren't too sure what's wrong with him. He won't talk. The guy's kinda creepy."

"Oh, he cain't be all that bad." Lou Ann protested gently.

"See for yourself!" Millie smiled and gestured down the hall, moving in the intended direction. Lou Ann followed her diligently.

They entered a different quarter, one that was unlike the other parts of the outbuilding. The rest of the corridors were fairly quiet, excepting quiet moans and soft voices of the doctors and staff behind the drawn curtains. This corridor was reserved for the new arrivals. This corridor was anything but relatively quiet. The stench was stronger here than in other parts of the building. The walls resonated with the pained and dying howls of the men held within. Sharp curses rang out alongside the hurried and frantic calls of the staff to each other. Stretcher-bearers came with new patients by the minute, leaving them to wait on medical attention they might not even receive. This was the haunting part of the nurses' work. This was where the men died more rapidly than the staff could work. This was the epitome of every human failing and lost cause, known and unknown, to man.

Lou Ann bravely followed Millie down the awful hall, stepping into one of the rooms down at the very far end. Millie gestured to the bed. "Get a load of this guy."

A stout man, quite a bit older than Gomer and the rest of the men, frowned back at them in stony silence. His fast-graying hair stuck straight up from where it usually hung close-cropped in a crew cut. His green eyes flashed angrily at the nurses bandaging his right arm while the other hand gripped the mattress with white knuckles. All the while, he didn't even utter a sound.

"Who is he?" Lou Ann breathed quietly, her gaze trained on the man before her.

"We found this on his person." Millie handed her the man's dogtags.

Lou Ann wiped away some grime on the tarnished metal and turned them to read the name. Suddenly, she gasped.

**'BROOKS, Richard F.'**

"He's…he's Gomer's sergeant!" She threw down the tags and pulled Millie out of the room with her.

"Hey, what's going on? You know this guy?"

"That…that's Gomer's sergeant." Lou Ann trembled, her eyes wide in disbelief. "I never met him, but I know it's him. Gomer's writ me about what a horrible man he is! An' Gomer wouldn't sit in judgment on anyone without good reason!"

"Cool it, honey. It's all right. He's just another person to treat."

Lou Ann shook her head and hurried back down the corridor.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Millie called.

Without turning around to explain, Lou Ann turned the corner and disappeared from view.

-

"Brooks? Here?" Duke choked out a laugh. "Isn't that ironic?"

"Duke, I don't know what to do about him!" Lou Ann cried despondently. "He's real mean lookin', an' Gomer don't really like him…"

"But he needs your help. That's it, isn't it?"

Lou Ann was silent for a minute before turning back to the bedridden corporal. "Why don't he talk?"

"Brooks giving you the silent treatment, eh? Well, that's just like him. He hates everything and everybody." Duke replied, deep in reflection.

"But how cain I help such a hateful man?" Lou Ann shook her head slowly and began making her way for the door.

"Take pity on him."

She turned around. "What?"

"Take pity on him." Duke repeated. "The old fart doesn't have a soul in the world who cares a thing for him. No kids, no family, nothing. I guess he's in the service…cause that's the only place where he feels needed." He shrugged stiffly. "Why else would a man go off to Korea, then turn around and come over here?"

Lou Ann smiled. "Thank you, Duke." She turned to go.

"Wait. Can I ask you a question now?"

She turned back around to face him, her arms crossed in mock exasperation. "An' what would that be?"

"When am I gonna get out of this thing and on my feet again?" Duke pointed to the suspended cast that mobilized his position.

She smiled. "Not very long, I reckon, if you've got anythin' to say about it."

-

Millie looked up as Lou Ann reentered the room. "It's about time you came back."

"What's wrong with him?" Lou Ann washed her hands and hastened to the bedside. "Tell me what you know."

"Arm's pretty well gone to pieces. Permanent nerve damage to the hand. We salvaged as much as we could. It doesn't look good."

"Where's Dr. Garrison?" She asked quietly.

"Jock's in surgery with some amputations. So are the others. You assisted the doc in the last surgery, Lou Ann. Think you can help bandaging up this guy?"

"I…" She glanced at his silent, angry face and nodded, her mouth dry. "Yes, I…I will."

"Great! Now that Mr. Personality is taken care of…" Millie stood to go.

"Wait! Please stay with me." Lou Ann looked pleadingly up at Millie.

"Oh, all right." Millie sighed and sat back down next to her.

Lou Ann gently touched the arm lying on bloodied towels, picking up one of the bandages next to her. She automatically felt him stiffen. She looked up and matched his gaze. "Hush." She murmured softly. "Hush. There's nuthin' to be frightened of. Here." Not even faltering in her gaze, she began tending the wound. "Vinny is a funny boy. He thinks ever'thing's a toy. The world is his should he desire. May he never be a liar…"

Almost instinctively, she began reciting the poem she'd made up for Vincent. She used the exact same tone on Sergeant Brooks as she would her son, holding his gaze defiantly. Her hands never ceased in their work. They gently probed the wound, assessing the damage and doing what she could to prepare it for the stitches that would surely follow.

"…an' now, after all I've said, it's time for Vinny to go to bed." She concluded some minutes later. Midway during her recital, Brooks had dropped his menacing gaze, but Lou Ann remained concentrated on his face. "There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Millie shook her head in amazement and opened her mouth to speak. But one look from Lou Ann made her close it again.

"Who are you?"

"Huh?" Lou Ann whirled back around to face the patient.

Brooks kept his gaze averted, but spoke to her gruffly. "You. Who are you?"

Not even noticing Dr. Garrison entering the room, she gently placed a hand on his arm. "A friend." She answered firmly.

"The doctor will see you now," she murmured and got up, leaving the room with Millie while Dr. Garrison took over.

"So, my boy. How's it going?"

No one, not even the doctor noticed the tears glistening in the grizzled sergeant's eyes.

-

Duke hobbled unsteadily down the corridor, taking his daily turn around the outbuilding on his crutches. Lou Ann had been right. In only a couple of weeks, he'd become mobile once again. But heavy thoughts hindered him from fully enjoying his newfound freedom.

He looked up and smiled. "Hey, Mother Superior."

"Hey, Duke." Lou Ann returned the friendly look as she passed him in the hall.

He shook his head and kept up his unsteady hobble. He knew her 'secret,' as did everyone else in the building. It was becoming impossible to hide the swelling by her uniform any longer. He just didn't see how one woman could shoulder so much at the same time and still be able to carry her head high.

"Oh, Lou Ann?" He craned his neck over his shoulder as an afterthought struck him. He paused and awkwardly tried to turn with his crutches. "I wanted to ask you something…"

"What is it, Duke?" Lou Ann walked up to him, an affable and questioning smile on her face.

"How's Gomer doing?"

She sighed sadly and shook her head. "I cain't bear it, I jus' cain't!"

"No change, huh?"

"You would have heard from me by now if there was." She smiled ruefully.

"Would it be okay if I, you know, go see him?" Duke pointed in the direction of his friend's room.

"Shame on you, Duke! You know you don't even have to ask! Go ahead. Gomer will like seein' you again." She pushed him gently in the right direction and hurried back down the corridor.

Duke had to pause a moment outside the curtain, mentally preparing himself for the visit. Just thinking about Gomer…he always saw him as he did last. His friend was laying down on the ground with his head busted open against the rock. The hot sun shone down on them both, unrelenting, while the stench of blood drew the flies and mosquitoes to the pair like buzzards to a dying animal, hovering in the air about them.

_"Gome? Gomer, this isn't funny. Answer me!"_

He was there again, witnessing the terrifying scene before him. His heart rose in his throat and his leg began to throb excruciatingly. His skin burned painfully, and his clothes stuck to him as if they were damp. For some reason, he was standing instead of sitting, looking down on his injured friend.

_"Come on…Gomer, get up! This isn't funny. Get up! Gomer, answer me!… Answer me!"_

He was screaming at the top of his voice, but it was as if he wasn't saying anything at all. He could stand and yell there all he wanted. He couldn't do anything else. His other foot remained rooted to the ground.

Duke's face hardened as he realized the futility of his situation. _"NO!"_

He jumped with a start, blinking rapidly. White hall. White curtain. White gown. Crutches. Clearing station. Recognizing his surroundings, he laughed with relief. "You're losing it, Duke," he muttered before drawing the curtain aside and hobbling into the room.

He paled as he looked down at his friend. "Gomer, what did you do?"

No reply came and none was expected. Duke slowly made his way up to the bed, pausing alongside it. "This is all my fault, isn't it?" Tears rushed to the forefront and he closed his eyes, shaking his head gruffly. "Maybe I could have handled any other way, but…Gosh, Gomer. Why'd you have to take the bullet for_ me?" _He kept his gaze trained on his friend's peaceful face as he slowly poured his heart out. "I'm no good to you. I've already got Drain-O, Fargo, Will, Lancaster, Cocklin, Reeves and…and Shrenk…on my hands." He swallowed painfully. "If there was anyone who deserved to go, it should've been me. And now…you…" He emitted a soulful cry, covering his face with his hands. "I messed up my own best friend! Am I a sort of jinx or something?"

He slowly regained his composure, turning back to Gomer once again. "Maybe, if it were just the other guys…I could get over it, in time. But _you!" _He shook his head. "I'll never forgive myself."

Shifting his weight, he readjusted his crutches to a more comfortable position. "Couldn't have ended up more differently, could we? I've done so many guys in, and you, you've done nothing but help everyone you met. Kim…Colonel Hanson…John Redfoot…Hien and Linh…and look where it's got us. Me, I'm going to be fine. And it's touch and go with you! It's not fair!" He shrugged angrily.

"And Sergeant Carter. You'd go to the ends of the earth to do something for Sergeant Carter. And you did, remember? Cause I screwed up, and dragged you into the middle of it. Remember, Gome? Remember?…"

-

_"Oh, Gomer! Gomer, buddy! Am I glad to see you." Duke hastened over to his friend and cornered him in the barracks as soon as he'd walked in. "Listen pal, can you do me a favor?"_

_Gomer smiled. "Well, sure, Duke. What's a friend for if he cain't help you?"_

_Duke regarded him desperately. "I need some money."_

_Gomer shrugged. "Sorry, I cain't help you." He turned and put his forage cap back in his locker._

_Duke didn't give up. He wouldn't back down just yet. "Please, Gomer, I've got a real important date tonight. That airline stewardess, Patty Gillette, I told you all about her."_

_"Oh, yeah! The one that's always flyin' back an' forth to San Francisco." Recognition dawned on Gomer's countenance as he closed his locker and sat down at the table. _

_"Yeah, that's the one! Well, I didn't tell you everything about her. See, she's not just any ordinary girl…" He shrugged helplessly. "I think I'm in love with her."_

_Gomer quickly stood. "Go-oll-ly, Duke! That's wonderful! An' best wishes to you!" He shook his friend's hand heartily. _

_"Well, this is the first Saturday she's had off in weeks and…well, that's why I need the money. I just have to see her."_

_"Oh, well, when I said a while ago I couldn't help you, I jus' meant I ain't got a whole lotta money. But you're welcome to ever'thing I got!" Gomer declared happily._

_"Oh, great, Gomer! You're a peach!" Duke smiled, relaxing. His money dilemma was over, and he was going to get to see Patty, after all! "I'll never forget you for this. And if Patty and I ever get married, I promise you're going to be the best man."_

_Gomer's eyes widened in surprise. "Shazaam! That sure would be a wonderful honor!"_

_Duke smiled and nodded, gesturing to Gomer's pants pocket. _

_"Oh…" Gomer quickly reached inside and pulled out the pocket's contents. He inspected the coins in his palm. "Ten…twenty…thirty…thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three. There you are, Duke. Take it!" He held it out to his friend happily._

_Duke put his hands on his hips, a disgruntled look on his face. "Gomer, that's all you got?" He pointed to the change in disbelief._

_"Well, sure! But don't worry. I don't need it."_

_"Gomer, that's not even enough for bus fare one way! I promised her a candlelight dinner and dancing to violin music!" Duke turned away, worry returning to his face. "I need at least ten dollars!"_

_Gomer looked sadly at his friend. He felt bad that Duke was caught in such a problem and hated to see him so distressed. He thought about it for a second before walking up behind him. "Well, why don't you hitchhike into town? An' if you love her an' she loves you, you should be happy jus' bein' together! You could take her for a walk in the park, an' thirty-three cents will buy you somethin'! Like two snow cones an' some jujubees…"_

_Duke shook his head and turned around. "Thanks, thanks a lot, Gomer." He touched his temple, feeling a headache coming on. "I guess I'd better call and tell her the date's off." He walked away despondently. _

_After placing the call, Duke listlessly walked back into the barracks. He found Gomer murmuring excitedly about a double clutch and changing into his khakis. He laid his hat on his bunk and leaned against it. All his plans ruined. And all because nobody could spare some extra bucks._

_"How'd she take it?" Gomer asked worriedly._

_Duke sighed. "She cried." He pushed himself onto his top bunk, looking at the ground sadly._

_"I still think you should've hitchhiked into town jus' to see her."_

_"It doesn't matter now, Gomer. She was just getting ready to call me to break the date. That's why she was crying."_

_"Really? How come?"_

_"Eh, one of the other hostesses got sick and they called Patty to fill in for her."_

_"Aw. Ain't that a shame?" Gomer pulled off his fatigue shirt and placed it in his locker._

_"She was crying so hard, I could hardly tell what she was saying." Duke added. _

_"Oh, bless her heart. But you know what they say, Duke. The course of true love never does run smooth. So you don't feel bad." Gomer pulled on his khaki shirt and started to button it up._

_"I'm just mad at myself." Duke turned to Gomer. "Here I was, worrying about dining and dancing…and you were right, Gomer. I should have gone into town just to be with her. I'd give anything just to see her now!" He looked into the distance for a second before shrugging and laying down on his cot. "Well, there's nothing much I can do about it now, I guess."_

_For the first time, he noticed Gomer's uniform. "Why are you changing? You going in?"_

_"Uh-huh. While you was out makin' a phone call, Sergeant Carter came by here an' I got to go into town on an errand for Colonel Grey. To get him a box of see-gars!" Gomer smiled proudly. He felt privileged to have been chosen for such a detail._

_"That should make an exciting Saturday." Duke remarked sarcastically._

_"It won't be too bad. At least I don't have to ride the bus into town. The sergeant told me I could use the company jeep!"_

_"Well, have fun." Duke laid back on his pillow, folding his arms behind his head. Suddenly, he sat back up. "The jeep. You've got the jeep, Gomer? You've really got the jeep?"_

_"Uh-huh." Gomer nodded. He was baffled by Duke's sudden turnaround._

_Duke leaped off the cot. "What a break! You can drive me to the airport and I can spend a little time with Patty before she leaves!"_

_"I cain't do that, Duke. I gotta go pick up the see-gars an' come right back." Duty came first for Gomer. The sergeant had given him explicit instructions. And Sergeant Carter got mad something awful when he didn't follow them!_

_"We'll come right back! I'll go on your errand with you, we'll go back together! Come on, Gomer. You have to. You just have to!" Duke pleaded. _

_"But Sergeant Carter didn't tell me I could take anybody with me."_

_"But he didn't say you couldn't!" Duke quickly countered._

_Gomer thought for a second. "Well, I guess you're right about that."_

_"We'll spend a few minutes with Patty, we'll pick up the cigars, and we'll come right back here, I promise!"_

_Gomer shrugged. "Goll-ly, Duke…"_

_"Please, Gomer! Just a few minutes! Please!" Duke desperately clung to his last hope of seeing his girl._

_"But the airport's a good fifteen minutes into town. That means fifteen minutes goin' an' fifteen minutes comin' back, plus the time you spend with Patty. That makes my trip about forty minutes longer!" Gomer exclaimed in dismay._

_Duke regarded his friend. "Gomer, a little while ago, you said what good is a friend if he can't help you?"_

_Gomer looked at the floor._

_"Well, now's your chance to prove it." Duke continued. "A friend needs your help now. Desperately. A friend who has one last chance to see the woman he loves. A friend who turns to you as one last beacon of hope. And only you are in a position to help him. Gomer, I am that friend."_

_He turned away. "The decision is yours."_

_Needless to say, he'd effectively broken his friend down. He got the ride to the airport and caught up with Patty, just as the noon flight was boarding. What they didn't count on was Sergeant Carter, who was duty sergeant that week, showing up. He arrived at the airport, escorting a general to his flight just as they were there at the plane. Duke hastily shoved Gomer aboard and the two ducked inside a closet to hide. _

_"Golly, Duke. This is some kettle of fish you got me into!" Gomer exclaimed in dismay after becoming trapped inside the closet._

_"Take it easy, Gomer! He'll be gone in a minute!" Duke replied curtly._

_"I should've been back with the see-gars by now!"_

_"We'll get 'em. Relax." Duke turned to his friend in an effort to calm him down._

_"I knew I shouldn't have done it! I should've gone straight to that store an' picked up them see-gars an' gone right back to the base."_

_"Look, Gomer, we'll be back in less than an hour. I promise you! Would I let you down?" Duke looked just as worried as Gomer. He, too, was wondering how to get out of this mess. "Well, would I? Look, I appreciate what you did for me, and I promise we'll be back in plenty of time!"_

_"But golly. This is some kettle of fish you got me into, Duke." Suddenly, Gomer's eyes widened. "Duke…I think we're movin'!"_

_"Gomer, look. I've been in jets before and when they take off, man they go straight up!" Duke explained. "Believe me, if we were taking off, you'd know it!"_

_At that moment, though, they were both thrown back against the wall of the closet. The plane was lifting off!_

_"Duke! We're up! We're up, Duke! We're up!" Gomer cried._

_"Hold it, Gomer. Take it easy!" Duke replied._

_"What am I gonna do about the see-gars?"_

_"Don't panic. Don't worry. Look, it only takes half an hour to get to San Francisco. We'll catch another plane right back. We'll have those cigars in Sergeant Carter's hands in less than two hours, I promise you!"_

_As the plane leveled off, the pilot's voice came on over the loudspeaker. "Good afternoon. This is your pilot, Captain Calaruso. We'll be flying at an altitude of thirty-seven thousand feet at a speed of six hundred and thirty miles an hour. Weather conditions are excellent, visibility is normal. We should be arriving, on time, in ROME."_

_Duke felt like he'd just been slapped across the face. "Rome!"_

_"Rome, It'ly?" Gomer asked in disbelief. It was going to be a _long _flight._

_-_

"You finally did get the errand done in time. Barely," Duke leaned on his crutch, sighing heavily. "No thanks to me, anyway. You were always getting me out of a tight spot when I needed you. Up to the last day, you did." He grimaced, fighting back the memories of their last infamous day together. "I did what I could, Gomer. You just don't deserve a friend like me!" He wept miserably.

A nurse poked her head around the curtain. "Corporal Slater, your lunch is ready."

Duke nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to Gomer. "I know I don't deserve any favors, but…come through for me, Gome, okay?"

He sighed shakily and picked up Gomer's limp hand, gripping it heartily with his own. "Semper fidelis, buddy."

-

"…And so I said, 'Look, buddy. If the Charlies weren't around, I'd _really _let you have it!' "

Lou Ann laughed at Millie's funny anecdote. The two were walking down the hall, just returning from their lunch break. Lou Ann was glad the friendly woman was there to make the nursing job easier. Her companionship was laid-back and her viewpoints were hilarious. Yes, she was very glad to have made a friend on the job.

"Actually, I thought that when Private Franklin threw down his card jus' cause _Lassie _came on television, the other fellas would never let him live it down!" Lou Ann added.

"Yeah, who knew Brutus watched the show religiously?" Millie giggled. She glanced at her friend questioningly. "So, how's it been?"

Lou Ann looked down at her middle and blushed. "Oh, Millie! I ain't _that _far along!"

"Fine. Let's just say you're not fooling anybody anymore. Lord, girl! I can't believe Jock hired you knowing this!"

"I ain't hired. I'm a volunteer, same as you are." Lou Ann replied. "An' those boys need the extra help somethin' terrible. Dr. Garrison knew that. That's why he let me help. Heaven knows they need it. All those poor boys!" She sighed sadly.

"Sleepy not doing so hot?" Millie asked sympathetically.

Lou Ann nodded. "He don't know about this one yet. Not _really, _anyway."

"Is it hard?"

She shook her head. "Actually, it's been easier than it was the first time."

"I forgot you had another kid. What's his name, again?"

"Vincent. Vincent Gomer Pyle." Lou Ann reached into the pocket of her uniform and pulled out a photo. "Here's a pitcher of him. Ain't he wonderful?"

Millie looked at the image thoughtfully. "Cute kid. Looks like his dad."

"Don't he, though? I jus' love him!" Lou Ann smiled at the photograph before tucking it back in her pocket.

The two paused outside a room that had become loathingly familiar to Lou Ann. Millie gestured to the curtain. "You going in?"

"I'll only be a minute." Lou Ann nodded. "Then we'll go see the new arrivals."

"Okay. I'll wait up for you, girl." Millie lightly touched her shoulder before watching her disappear inside.

"Hey, Gomer." Lou Ann strode over to his bed and looked down, the worry lines returning to her face. "You doin' all right?"

The silence only distraught her nerves further. Lou Ann knelt by the bed and took his hand. "The doctor says you're all fine 'cept for your head. He said if you don't wake up soon, you never will." She cried softly, gripping his hand even tighter.

"Gomer…remember how you told me the story about why you wanted to join the Marines, an' how Andy took you down to the base for your first day an' ever'thing? Remember what you told him when he thought you wouldn't make it?" She shook her head, her mind rolling back to recall the tale…

-

_Andy Taylor was having a conversation at the window with Gomer, who'd just been telling him about his punishment. The other men had told him to put on the sergeant's dress blue uniform, and he had. When Sergeant Carter saw him, he'd thrown a bucket on his head and told him that it would help him think. He had just finished describing the bucket concept to Andy, and how it really _was _easy to think under it._

_Despite what Gomer said, Andy knew he wasn't making a very good impression with the Sarge. The boy was so eager to join and become a Marine that he didn't want to come right out and crush his hopes. But it didn't look good. That was why he'd stuck around instead of driving home. Gomer may, in fact, be needing a ride back to Mayberry._

_"Uh, Gomer…" He began uncertainly. "Would you be disappointed if they told you to go home and come back some other time or maybe just wait till they called you? Would you be disappointed?"_

_Gomer looked at him sadly as he held the bucket, his long hair falling over his forehead. "Disappointed? Why, it'd break my spirit is what, Andy."_

_Andy looked down. "Yeah, but…but Gomer,"_

_"You 'member how I told you my daddy said one day I was gonna get tested an' he wouldn't be around to help an' I'd have to make it on my own? Well, that's what I gotta do now. An' I wouldn't want to disappoint him." Gomer shook his head, thinking reverently of his father, who'd been dead a long time now. It had been one of the last nights father and son had had together before he went to Europe that they'd sat on the porch and had this talk. His father had known then the gravity of his situation, but young Gomer hadn't a clue what it was all about. Little did he know, his father would never return from his 'trip.' In the short time he'd known him, Gomer had loved and respected his father. He took the words his father had told him that night to the gospel and had carried them with him ever since. Several years later, when he'd learned the truth about his father's death, the memory of their conversation had returned tenfold. And when he'd gotten the notification saying his draft number was about to come up, he'd made up his mind then and there. This was his test, given straight by his daddy himself. In a way, he was following in the footsteps of his family. The Pyles had a long military history dating back to the American Revolution. In a way, the prospect was frightening. But it never was for Gomer. He knew in his heart that his father was with him every step of the way._

_"Or the Marines." He added firmly._

_"It's gonna be tough, Gomer." Andy cautioned._

_He nodded. "I know."_

_"It'll get tougher," Andy added, eying him uncertainly. He just didn't think the boy was up to something like the Marines._

_"Right." Gomer nodded._

_"But you want it, huh?"_

_Gomer nodded silently._

_"Well, uh…well, I'll catch up to you later on." Andy said in parting. There was no changing Gomer's mind. Not right now, anyway. "Meantime, you think about it."_

_"Yeah, an' I know jus' how to do it, too!" Gomer happily plopped the bucket over his head._

_-_

"You made it, Gomer. You really showed up." Lou Ann murmured gently. "You made your daddy mighty proud. Anybody would be proud to have a son like you. You always was lookin' out for your friends. An' you really cared!" She looked down at her lap. "You always have. I jus' wish…" She held her face in her hands and cried despondently. He'd made it on his own. He just hadn't made it for her.

She cried for several minutes, thinking only of the dark future that lay ahead of her. _Where do I go from here?_

_Vinny. You still got Vinny. You got to be strong for him. _Thinking of her son, her tears slowly subsided. She gasped brokenly and reached into her pocket for a tissue.

"Lou Ann?"

She gasped and looked up, feeling as though her heart had stopped. Her face lit up with happiness as her gaze met the wide brown eyes of her husband. "Gomer!"

"Lou Ann…how I…get here?" He groaned as he tried moving his stiff joints. "Head…hurts…"

She laughed. "Gomer, don't you remember?"

"No." He frowned and slowly shook his head. "What…all 'bouts?"

"Millie!" Lou Ann cried, causing her friend to run into the room. "Millie, run an' get Dr. Garrison. Tell him Gomer's awake!"

Stunned, the nurse nodded and hurried out of the room.

Lou Ann turned back to the bed, tears glistening in her eyes. "Oh, Gomer. You're home, you're home!" She cautiously leaned over and kissed his cheek.

He smiled. "How long…it been?"

"Three months since you last saw me." She replied.

"What…happen…?"

"You hit your head pullin' Duke out of that hole an' you've been asleep ever since!" She laughed with relief, taking his hand. "Don't you remember?"

"Uhnn…" Gomer slowly shook his head.

"That's common in coma patients when they first wake up." Dr. Garrison appeared in the doorway. "Most have a temporary lapse in memory and can't quite seem to recall the incident that caused the injury. It'll come back, though. As long as he's patient and doesn't think too hard." He smiled.

"Shazaam…" Gomer had finally looked down and realized he was holding pictures in his hand. "That…?"

"That's Vincent. See what a good walker he is?" Lou Ann smiled gently.

"Sure…is…done…growed up…'gain."

Dr. Garrison checked his vitals and turned to Lou Ann. "I'll have to run some further tests, but I'd say he's doing phenomenally. His thought processes are a little slow and his speech is pretty broken, but I'd say they've just gotten rusty with little use." He nodded encouragingly. "I really believe they'll go away with time. I'm happy to say, Mrs. Pyle, that I think your husband is going to make a full recovery."

"Really?" She clasped her hands together excitedly. She couldn't believe this day had truly come! Turning back to her husband, she suddenly realized there was one more important thing she had to tell him. Leaning close, she whispered her news in his ear.

"Shazaam!" He cried. "No…fool…in?"

Lou Ann laughed and shook her head. "Oh, no, Gomer! I would never do that!"

"Goll…ly. Where…I been?" He asked slowly. "I dun…n miss…ever'thing."

"Not ever'thing." She smiled and nestled her head next to his. "Welcome back, Gomer."


	33. Semper Fidelis

**Chapter 33**

_Semper Fidelis_

Within weeks, Gomer and Duke were released from the hospital and were on their way back to the world. As a result of their injuries, the men were given honorable discharges from active service in Vietnam, freeing them to go home to Camp Henderson, for good this time.

Morgan was waiting for them when they disembarked from the plane. Duke was both pleased and surprised when she embraced him, crutches and all. Gomer and Lou Ann followed slowly. The lance corporal was up and walking normally now, but they were still taking it slow to be cautious. His mental faculties were amazingly fully restored, and Dr. Garrison suspected it wouldn't be long before Gomer was fully recovered. The only visible reminder of the accident was, in fact, the twenty-seven neat stitches on the right side of his forehead. His hair was too short to cover them, giving him a Frankenstein's monster-like appearance, which attracted several odd looks. But it didn't bother Gomer in the least. In a month or two they'd be out, anyway. He was just happy to have survived the ordeal and be left remaining relatively unscathed. The horrifying chapter of his life that was Vietnam had finally drawn to a close.

The news of his expanding family had been the highlight of his recent weeks, making Gomer doubly glad to see Vincent running toward him as he and Lou Ann returned to their apartment.

"Hey, buddy!" He cried, dropping to the toddler's height as his son came barreling into him. "I missed you!"

"Da-Da!" Vincent cried, basking in the attention and the warmth his father's embrace provided.

"Yes, Vinny." Lou Ann cooed, kneeling next to the pair. "Daddy's home. An' he's gonna stay with us this time. We're gonna be a real family now. Won't that be fun?"

Vincent only gurgled in response.

"Won't that be somethin', though?" Gomer situated the boy on his shoulders and slowly stood, helping Lou Ann to her feet. "We cain pick up right where we left off!"

"Well, it's gonna have to wait till after supper." Lou Ann smiled. "I invited Duke an' Morgan an' the Carters over for supper. Bunny said she had some big news."

"What sort of big news?" Gomer sat down on the play mat in the middle of the living room and set Vincent down so he could play.

"She didn't say. Now, careful, Gomer." Lou Ann cautioned, giggling as she disappeared into the kitchen alcove. "Little Vinny cain be quite the handful!"

"Really?" Gomer smiled as he watched his son stack a pile of blocks.

"You think I ain't bein' truthful?"

Gomer turned his head in the direction of the kitchen. "I ain't never seed Vincent get in trouble a day in his life before. An' after all, what could a one-year-old possibly do?"

He soon found out.

Vincent, displeased at having lost his father's attention, emitted a cry and threw one of the wooden blocks at him. It hit Gomer on the temple with a light ping.

Though not hard, the blow had a dizzying effect on his mind. He couldn't tell where he was anymore. The whole world was a fuzzy blur of sound and color. The only thing discernable was the bright sun…and it was baking him relentlessly.

He looked about him in the tall elephant grass that surrounded his feet. Explosions bombarded him on all sides, sending the earth up in flames on impact. His head felt heavy and his breathing came in short gasps. A feeling of panic and fear overwhelmed him as he frantically searched the surrounding landscape.

_"Duke!"_

He strained his ears for a reply. His friend needed him something desperate. He had to find him, he just _had _to!

_"Duke, please answer me!"_

An explosion sounded off to his right. He tried to jump away but he found he couldn't move. His feet remained rooted to the spot. A sense of futility washed over him. He was a sitting duck! This couldn't be happening, not when his friend needed him!

_"DUKE!"_

"I've gotta find him…I've gotta find him…" He mumbled hoarsely. "I've gotta…"

"Find who, darlin'?"

He blinked and his gaze fell on Lou Ann, who was looking at him with evident concern. He glanced down at Vincent sitting next to him on the floor, who squealed and clapped his hands. He breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at his wife. "Nuthin', Lou Ann. Jus' thinkin', is all."

She shrugged and returned to setting the table. "All right."

A few seconds passed before a light rap sounded on the door.

"That'll be Duke an' Morgan." She murmured, hastening to the kitchen. "Could you get that please, Gomer?"

"Sure, Lou Ann." Gomer pushed himself up and headed for the door. "By the way, how'd you know it was Duke?" He opened it, smiling and beckoning the friends inside.

"The Carters knock, but they never wait to be invited in." She replied distantly, the sounds of cluttering kitchenware accompanying her voice.

"Hey, Gome!" Duke clapped his friend on the back while Morgan went to help Lou Ann in the kitchen. No one had been happier than Duke to find out that Gomer was going to be all right. He could now at least appease his mind that he'd done the right thing in carrying his friend to the clearing station.

He slowly walked a few steps forward and closed the door behind him. "Man, it's good to be home, isn't it?"

"How's Morgan?"

Duke grinned. "You'll never believe this. When we left after Christmas leave, I thought she'd forgotten all about me. But guess what? She _worried _about me! She told me so herself!"

"That's great, Duke! So things is goin' smooth between you now?" Gomer smiled.

Duke nodded. "We're heading straight where I want us to go."

"Gomer!" Lou Ann cried as she hurried into the living room. "What did I tell you? You're supposed to be watchin' Vinny!" She quickly picked him up off of the top of the couch, where he'd been reaching for the lamp on the coffee table, and set him back on the floor. "I cain't do ever'thing!"

"I'm sorry, Lou Ann. Me an' Duke will watch the little feller now." He replied, slowly sitting down on where he could keep an eye on his curious son.

The two Marines sat in companionable silence while Vincent played on the floor. Though it was the last thing either wanted to talk about, their shared experiences in Vietnam had made the two closer than ever. They didn't need to talk to appreciate each other's presence.

"What you plan on doin' now, Duke?" Gomer finally asked.

His friend shrugged. "I don't know. See if they got any position offerings at the base, save my pay and buy a house. You?"

"Lou Ann an' me's talked a little bit about movin' back to Mayberry. You see, my cousin Goober owns a gas station now, an' he's willin' to make me a partner in it with him. I don't know if it's enough to pay for us an' two kids, but we'll work somethin' out. All the folks back home is so friendly, anyways."

Duke nodded. "Well, with us being on opposite sides of the coast, I guess we won't be seeing each other too much anymore, huh?"

Gomer studied the carpet. "I guess not."

"We could always send Christmas cards…"

"An' write letters back an' forth…"

"And visit when we get the chance…"

"An' it'll be jus' like I never left."

The conversation fell off. Both men knew that keeping that regular a correspondence from so far apart would be next to impossible. Gomer sighed. He'd been more than ready to say goodbye to Vietnam. But he wasn't quite ready to let Duke and Sergeant Carter out of his life just yet.

A brief knock came at the door before Bunny and Sergeant Carter burst in. "Hello, everyone! Welcome back!"

"Hi, Gomer! Hi, Duke!" Bunny waved. "Boy, are you two a sight for sore eyes! It's good to have you back." She turned to Sergeant Carter and held up her dish. "I'll set the tuna casserole down and see what the girls need help with in the kitchen."

"Okay, hon." Carter smiled until she'd disappeared into the kitchen, then grimaced. "You guys want a tip? If you don't want to be up half the night with indigestion, stay away from the tuna casserole."

"Come on in an' sit down, Sergeant." Gomer beckoned from the living room.

"Well, my boys!" Carter smiled down at the two men. "How has it been? And don't you ever forget that _I _was the one who trained you, you goofs!"

"Uh, Sarge? What are you talking about?" Duke frowned up at him in confusion.

"Didn't you guys hear?" Carter quickly sat down. "You two are a couple of heroes! Camp Henderson can't get enough of you! My phone's been ringing off the hook all day with reporters wanting to interview you! It's great!"

"But Sergeant…what did we do?" Gomer held his hands out, shrugging helplessly.

"What did you do?" Carter eyed them incredulously, shaking his head. "What did you _do? _You saved each other's hides in the middle of a war zone! You didn't even have to be told to do it! It's all-Marine! Semper fidelis and gung ho and no man gets left behind and all that. And Camp Henderson's Sergeant Carter, _me, _gave you the basic training you needed to join the fight! It's incredible! One of these stories doesn't just fall into your lap every day. The Pentagon wants to decorate you, the president wants to meet you, and Hollywood wants to recreate your story for a recruiting film."

"NO!" Duke and Gomer cried at the same time.

"It wasn't anything, really…" Duke protested.

"Gran'ma Pyle always says that 'sometimes, it's jus' better to let sleepin' dogs lie.' An' this is one of those times." Gomer added.

"Listen to that." Carter smiled even wider. "Modest heroes! America's going to love you even more!"

Duke shook his head grimly. "I don't think so." He stood and walked over to the window, staring out into the street below. "America doesn't want to hear about what two guys did in a phony war they're sick and tired of hearing about anyway."

"Huh?" Carter's face clouded in confusion.

Gomer looked up from the floor. "What Duke is tryin' to say, Sergeant, is, well, we ain't no heroes."

"What are you talking about? Of course you are! You saved each other, remember?"

"So what?" Duke mumbled.

"So what? So what, you went back and pulled each other through that mess, that's what!" Carter fought to keep his temper, growing a little red under the collar. "Not just any guy would do that! A Marine would! Because he doesn't leave his buddies behind!"

Duke turned to face him angrily. "It's a pack of lies! We left a lot of men behind! Men that were more Marine than Gomer or I could ever be! They're the heroes you keep talking about! And I'm not telling my story to some stuffy Hollywood director who can't even begin to understand what we went through! It's all better off just forgotten."

He took quick strides into the kitchen alcove. "I'm going to see if the girls need any help…"

Carter snorted. "Well. He didn't have to get so touchy!"

Gomer was silent for a moment. "Sergeant, I'm gonna say two things, then I ain't gonna say no more about it. First off, I want you to know I agree with ever'thing Duke jus' said. An' second, it's all water under the bridge an' there ain't nobody what cain change that. So maybe it's best to jus' treat it like a wounded badger an' let it be."

Carter looked at Pyle in surprise. Had the knucklehead really just thought that out, all by himself?

Gomer avoided his gaze and sat on the floor to play with Vincent some more. "What you got there, buddy?"

"Choo-choo." The boy replied, pushing his toy in a circle on the floor.

"That a choo-choo train? Where's it goin' to?"

"Vietnaam!" The boy cried happily, causing his father to pale.

"Come on out, boys. Dinner's ready." Lou Ann called.

-

Before long, dinner was well underway. Aside from Bunny's tuna casserole, the food was delicious. It was especially so for Gomer and Duke. They hadn't had a good meal since Christmas!

The women dominated the dinner conversation with interesting small talk. They talked of who was marrying whom, the still-rising prices of groceries, and what new movies were playing down at the Bijou theater. Carter even added his two cents on the latest works of the Underground Weather Organization and their attempt to blow up the US Capitol. But no one approached the topic of Vietnam. Duke and Gomer's stony silences cast the subject off as taboo, an understanding that ought not to be broached.

As Lou Ann and Morgan stood to clear away the dessert plates, Bunny cleared her throat. "Well, Vince, have you told them yet?"

"No." Carter grumbled, his mouth still full of pie.

"Well, tell them already!" Bunny hissed. "You've already stalled long enough!"

"Is this that big news you was talkin' about?" Lou Ann asked absently as she headed for the dishwasher in the kitchen.

Carter nodded, swallowing. "Colonel Grey was impressed when he heard about Slater and Pyle here. I didn't have anything to do with it. It was completely his decision. He worked it out with the general and he has some commissions to offer. High ones. He knows Pyle doesn't like positions of authority, so he wants to make Pyle a major and Slater a lieutenant colonel."

Lou Ann dropped the plates she was holding, barely aware of them as they crashed at her feet. "Gomer's gonna be a major?"

Carter shrugged. "If he accepts. He would be a knucklehead not to. An opportunity like this doesn't just present itself every day, you know."

"Me? A lieu…lieu…lieu…" Duke trembled excitedly. He turned to Morgan. "Did you hear that, baby? I'm going to be a lieu…lieu…"

"He had to pick from the positions available. They aren't ones that would mean a lot of relocating, either. They're steady positions that include housing on the base and everything." Carter laughed.

"You seem awfully happy for them." Bunny commented dryly.

Carter shrugged. "Why shouldn't I be? You know what this is going to look like on my record? Two of the men I trained from boots becoming part of the top brass! _I'll _be the envy of every platoon commander that ever lived! You know what this means? It means Sergeant of the Month! No, Sergeant of the Year! No, Sergeant of the Century!"

Duke slowly stood, his legs threatening to give out under him. Morgan hastened to his side and held him up. "A lieu…lieu…lieu…"

Lou Ann hurried over to Gomer's seat, leaning down and hugging him. "Ain't that wonderful, Gomer?"

Gomer could only sit dumbly in shocked silence, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.

Beside him, Vincent began to cry. Everyone was making a fuss and it wasn't over _him!_

_-_

Later that evening, after Vincent had been put to bed, Lou Ann beckoned Gomer into her room, closing the door for privacy.

"Gomer, we need to talk." She murmured, taking his hands in hers.

"What about?"

"About our future." She looked down at the ground, her fingers still tightly interwoven with his. "I know we was talkin' about movin' back to Mayberry an' you takin' that position at the fillin' station an' all. But…a major makes a lot of money…"

"I know, Lou Ann." Gomer gazed down at her sadly. "I jus' ain't all too sure that's what I wanna do."

"But Vinny's already outgrown our apartment, an' we've got another one on the way!" She cried in dismay, looking down at her swollen midriff. "How cain we support them on such a small income?"

"Golly, Lou Ann. I'd do anythin' for the little fellers, same as you would, but…Major's purdy high up. I don't want folks thinkin' I'm bein' uppity if I take it."

"But Gomer…" Lou Ann raised her head to meet his gaze. "We could live right on the base, an' we wouldn't have to leave Morgan an' Bunny an' Duke an' Sergeant Carter…"

Gomer nodded. "That would be nice, not leavin' our friends." He sighed. "But I ain't much of a leader! I jus' don't think I cain be a major!"

"Movin' back to Mayberry means that we'll only be eighty miles away from _Monroe Eeford." _Lou Ann replied.

Gomer's face hardened determinedly. He'd been told of the unexpected guest and what had happened from Lou Ann on the plane ride back to the States. After hearing what Monroe had done, Gomer had vowed to Lou Ann that he would not let Monroe anywhere near her again. Lou Ann had been more than happy to agree and comply.

"Maybe we oughta rethink this." He murmured.

"Daddy'll _insist _on makin' us visit him ever' other weekend." Lou Ann added. "An' he'll jus' go on an' on about somethin' when he's got his mind made up…"

Gomer shook his head at the floor. Lou Ann was wearing him down…

"I heard from Morgan that Duke plans on takin' his commission."

"Duke's a born leader." Gomer replied.

Lou Ann sighed. "We'll finish this conversation later."

With that, they both went their separate ways in preparing for bed. Though in close proximity to each other, not a word was spoken between them the whole while. The air hung heavily with words unsaid, weighing down Gomer's spirits.

"Goll-ly, Lou Ann. You know how I hate it when we fight." He murmured, sitting down next to her on the bed.

"How cain we feel so different about our own future?" She turned to him, close to crying.

"Lou Ann…" Gomer gently took her and folded her in his arms. It pained him to see her so upset. "I was thinkin'…about this whole thing? An' it all really comes down to one thing. You an' the little fellers comes first for me now."

"Oh, Gomer," She sighed, relaxing against him.

"But you got to answer me one question, though." Gomer added.

"An' what's that?" She smiled and closed her eyes, content to rest her head on his shoulder and listen to his voice.

"You think I could ever be a good major?"

She sat up and looked at him long and hard, contemplating the question. The honesty shining in his eyes told her that it was a legitimate question. But how was she to answer it?

Suddenly, she smiled as the answer dawned on her. "You jus' do what you always done an' be the very best Gomer Pyle you cain be. The rest will follow."

-

"What in the heck are we _doing?" _Duke cried, pacing the length of the duty hut. Gomer sat in an adjacent chair and sadly shook his head. Both men were dressed in their dress blue uniforms for the occasion. They had allowed themselves a moment of respite before they accepted their commissions from Colonel Grey, which they were already very nervous about. Only a minute earlier, Frankie Lombardi had dropped in to tell them that the Commandant had arrived from Washington with the intention of awarding the duo the Navy and Marine Corps Medal for their bravery.

"First the parade, then the commissions, now they want to _decorate _us?" Duke shook his head. "I just don't know if I can go through with this."

A sense of guilt pervaded over Gomer's feelings. "The whole thing jus' don't sit quite right with me. Duke, I…I really jus' don't think I did anythin' to deserve all this."

"Let's beat this joint." Duke murmured, heading for the back entrance of the duty hut.

Gomer jumped up and followed him. "Duke, wait!"

"Nobody'll notice…" Duke's voice trailed off as he took in all the people milling about just outside the back door. "Gosh, how many people turned up for this thing?"

Gomer wasn't paying attention to him. He was thinking long and hard about all that he'd been through and what he was feeling right that moment. "Duke…I never thought I'd say this, but I wisht I was back there now."

"Yeah." Duke nodded in full comprehension of Gomer's meaning. "Me too, Gome. I wish I'd never been put on that first patrol."

Gomer looked around at the gigantic crowd. All the rest of the base was turned out in their dress uniform for the ceremony, so the duo blended right in with the mingle of soldiers and civilians. "Duke, I jus' didn't do nuthin' to deserve all this."

"You pulled me out of a pit, that's what you did." Duke moved over to lean against the side of the duty hut. "Now everyone in America wants to shake your hand. What for? Because you saved the life of Corporal Gilbert Slater, a man they've never heard of nor care about." He shook his head. "No matter which way you look at it, it's still all just a lot of hooey."

"It oughta be Shrenk up there instead of us." Gomer said quietly, speaking the thought that was on both their minds. Duke nodded in silent agreement. Shrenk had been a real friend in times of war. He'd always held the platoons' best interests at heart. He'd laid down everything just to be there for his buddies. He'd been the truest Marine either of them had ever known.

"Tell me about it." Duke sighed. "But no one cares about him, either. He's just some dead guy."

"Hey, Bobsey twins. Drop the pout."

The two men turned and stared in shocked disbelief at Shrenk, fully bedecked in his combat gear, standing only a few feet away from them. His helmet hooded his eyes from view, but his stance and voice were enough to identify him as their former lieutenant. All of his gear lay packed at his feet. The heavy scent of cigarette smoke permeated the air, yet no one nearby was smoking. He slowly raised his hand, pointing to the two men. "It's all on the number one, you hear?" He dropped his finger and gave them a slight nod. "You two kooks done all right. Now start acting like it. You ain't gonna accept no awards cause of what you did, no. Not for them, not for you, not even for me. You'll do it for each other."

The men could only watch as he stooped down to pick up his gear, slinging it across his shoulders. "Make the boys proud, okay?" He turned away and merged into the crowd.

Gomer turned away for an instant to glance at Duke's face. He wondered if his friend had just seen what he thought he just saw. When he turned back, Shrenk was gone. He searched the crowd fruitlessly. The specter had simply vanished.

He turned back to Duke. "Did you…?"

"No. No, I didn't." Duke quickly replied, walking back into the duty hut. "Come on, Gome. We'll be late for the ceremony."

-

Gomer and Duke stood at attention before Colonel Grey, Sergeant Carter and the Commandant of the Marine Corps. The crowd had finally quieted when the platoons marched by to 'Semper Fidelis.' The corporal and lance corporal had solemnly saluted the flags as Camp Henderson's band played the Marine Hymn and the Star Spangled Banner. When taps had sounded from a nearby cluster of trees, a tear ran down Gomer's cheek. The music had taken them both through such an emotional journey that they were slightly rattled by the time Colonel Grey stepped forward to commend them and their sergeant. It took all of their training to stand staring stonily ahead, still as statues, during the Colonel's recital.

They then stepped forward as the Commandant awarded them the Vietnam service medal and the purple heart for their wounds incurred during battle. Gomer was even given medals honoring the time he'd served as a prisoner of war and his successful escape, which had led to the freeing of the prison camp. As he stepped back in line, the Commandant turned to address the audience.

"I came here on a special objective. One that most Marines will never come to witness. These two men have exemplified 'esprit de corps' in every sense of the word…"

"Here it comes." Duke murmured under his breath to Gomer.

Gomer squirmed uncomfortably, looking out into the crowd. To his surprise, he caught sight of a strikingly familiar figure among the masses. His eyes widened in amazement. Shrenk stood right in the midst of the people, his eyes trained intently on the two Marines. His combat helmet made him stand out starkly from the rest of the crowd. When his gaze met Gomer's, he smiled and nodded his head slowly.

Gomer bit back a grin and stood straighter at attention.

"…This man not only ran straight into enemy territory to find his missing comrade," the Commandant gestured to Gomer, "but pulled Corporal Slater out of harm's way, putting himself on the line to protect his friend from an enemy grenade. His efforts rendered him unconscious…"

"No, I didn't. I hit my head on a rock." Gomer muttered.

"Shh," Duke hissed. "That's just fancy talk for the crowd, Gome. Hitting your head on a rock doesn't sound half so pretty."

"…So Corporal Slater dragged his friend to safety…"

"I did not, I carried him!" Duke murmured indignantly.

"Shh," Gomer whispered. "That's jus' fancy talk for the crowd. Carryin' me don't sound half so purdy."

"…Where they were both treated for their critical injuries received in battle. Ladies and gentlemen, these very men stand here before you today. For their acts of bravery and heroism displayed, despite risk to themselves, in the Vietnam conflict, I hereby congratulate Corporal Slater and Lance Corporal Pyle as recipients of the Navy and Marine Corps Medal!"

The crowd erupted in cheers as the two men stepped forward to be decorated. Gomer scanned the crowd for Shrenk's helmet, but couldn't find it. He could've sworn he's seen Shrenk standing right there…

Colonel Grey cleared his throat. "On the order of Camp Henderson and my personal recommendation, these two brave men have been given commissions that they have been kind enough to accept. I have here the silver maple leaf to give to Lieutenant Colonel Slater…" He held up the pair of silver pins. "…and the gold maple leaf to grant Major Pyle." He turned to the Marines. "Congratulations, men."

They stepped forward again to shake the Colonel's hand and accept the gifts.

Gomer turned and scanned the crowd again, still with no luck. He turned to view the audience to his right and almost bumped into Duke. His friend's eyes were also cast upon the crowd, searching it with the same intensity he had. They looked at each other and smiled in discomfiture.

Gomer was the first to recover his voice. "Did you…?"

"No," Duke turned away. "No, I didn't." He smiled and waved. "Look, Gome! Here comes your family."

Lou Ann, three months pregnant and looking it, carried Vincent on her arm. She made her way through the crowd up to Gomer and hugged him wordlessly. The crowd was quiet as his family joined him, all eyes on the young couple. Gomer buried his face against Lou Ann in embarrassment. It was just like their wedding all over again.

Morgan came up to stand by Duke, the sunlight catching the diamond ring on her left hand and reflecting it. He'd placed it there last night when they'd gotten a quiet minute alone after dinner. It wasn't only Gomer whose future was suddenly all coming together. When they'd rejoined the group, Gomer's eyes had lit up in surprise. Seeing his expression, Duke could only shrug. "I guess Cyrano lost the fight."

Carter laughed and applauded, nudging Bunny beside him. He personally didn't aspire to be promoted. Working with the men was what he loved to do, what he _needed _to do. These men were his prodigies. Everything they had done was a result of his training. To see them promoted was the highest honor the sergeant had ever been awarded.

A strong gust of wind hit Gomer's back and he stumbled a few steps forward. A few seconds later, Duke did the same.

"Didn't you feel that?" He asked Lou Ann incredulously.

His wife gently rocked their son and looked at him oddly. "Feel what, Gomer?"

"That wind. Didn't you feel it?"

She shook her head. "Gomer, there ain't been so much as a breeze all day."

He glanced up at the flags and realized she was right. He turned and moved over to Duke, who only shrugged at the unspoken question.

"Hey, aren't these going to look nice on our new uniforms? Huh?" Duke grinned, positioning the silver maple leaf on his shoulder. "Sharp, isn't it?"

Gomer nodded before a movement over Duke's shoulder caught his attention. "Duke, turn around! Lookit there!"

Slater whirled around and looked where Gomer had pointed. There, up the rows about a hundred yards, they saw a lone figure walking. Dark and heavily encumbered by luggage, it was hard to make out who the figure was. As they watched, the figure slowly faded and disappeared into nothingness.

Gomer slowly turned to Duke. "Did you…?"

"No. No, I didn't."


	34. Epiphany

**Chapter 34**

_Epiphany_

Another week saw the Pyles moving in to their new home on the base. It was a small, quaint two-story building located among others of similar construction belonging to the rest of the officers on the base. A mailbox and picket gate marked the beginning of the property leading down a small pathway, which ended in three steps leading onto the white porch. By the door hung a scarlet and gold nameplate marked, 'MAJOR GOMER PYLE.' The interior was a notable improvement compared to how much space they'd had in their apartment, but it was still small enough to be cozy. Vincent and the new baby each had their own rooms, with another guest room to spare. Gomer and Lou Ann's master bedroom was roomy and looked over the front lawn. What was even better, Duke and Morgan's house was located only a few lots away.

Gomer stood in front of the mirror in their bedroom, preparing for his first day on the job as major. He adjusted his tie, pulling at the officer's jacket he wore over his khakis. He wore all his ribbons and shooting badges in the appropriate order on the left side of the coat. Nothing denoted his rank except the epaulettes he wore on each shoulder depicting the golden maple leaf. The jacket remained open at the top, exposing his khaki shirt and tie underneath. On each end of the shirt's collar he wore the golden maple leaf pins. He picked up his peaked cap and looked at it with mild amazement. The Marine emblem emblazoned the front while the black rim was edged with gold trim, denoting a high-ranking officer. Cautiously, he tried it on and studied the uniform in its entirety.

Lou Ann was passing through the hall when she caught sight of him through the open doorway to their bedroom. She quickly dropped what she was doing and hastened to his side. "Oh!"

He straightened and turned toward her. "Well? What do you think?"

"Oh, Gomer, I think it's lovely!" She exclaimed, straightening his tie fussily.

"You really an' truly like it, then?"

Lou Ann smiled up at him. "I think you look very handsome an' distinguished."

"Aw, Lou Ann." Gomer squirmed in embarrassment.

"I ain't jus' sayin' that, neither." Lou Ann kissed his cheek and tapped his lapels. "You gotta trust yourself, Gomer. I know you cain do this."

"Goll-ly, Lou Ann. I know, but…I jus' don't feel comfortable, is all." He looked uncertainly at his reflection in the mirror. Lou Ann had been right. He _did _look handsome and distinguished. But where was Gomer Pyle?

"Don't let it bother you, darlin'. You'll get used to it. Jus' like you got used to bein' a lance corporal." She smiled gently.

"Yeah, but…I jus' don't like bein' in a position of authority." He protested.

"But you'll do anythin' to help someone else, Gomer." She replied quietly. "You don't got to be like other majors. With this position, you cain help many more people, Gomer."

"That's right." Gomer said quietly, a smile spreading over his face. "I never thought about it that way." He turned back to the image in the mirror. His reflection didn't look half so formidable or fierce now. In fact, as his grin got wider, he saw himself more and more. Gomer Pyle _was _there, after all!

"Now, stand up straight. I wanna see that Marine I know an' love." Lou Ann chided laughingly.

Gomer's smile disappeared, replacing it with the determined and stony expression he used for the Colonel, Sergeant, Commandant, and all other superior officers. He drew himself up to his full height, standing straight and tall at attention.

Lou Ann smiled at him dotingly. Gomer's path to becoming one of the few, the proud, had been a tumultuous one. At long length, he had finally made it. His journey was complete. It was time for him to live the rest of his life.

"Good luck on your first day." She murmured, giving him a final kiss in parting. "I better get back to Vincent 'fore he starts climbin' all over the furniture again."

"Shazaam," he shook his head happily as the couple exited the bedroom and made their way downstairs. He grabbed a quick breakfast and said goodbye to his son before stepping outside into Camp Henderson.

He waved when he saw Duke standing just a little way down the road. He ran to catch up to his friend. "Duke, wait up!"

Duke nodded and stopped for him to catch up. He was dressed similarly to Gomer, only he wore the silver maple leaf of the lieutenant colonel. "Hey, Gome. What's been keepin' ya?" He patted his friend on his back as the two headed for the mess hall at the base. In the distance, a trumpet sounded off the tune of reveille.

-

"I already got breakfast, so I'll jus' wait for you over there." Gomer gestured to a table and Duke nodded, getting in line for the morning breakfast dish at the mess hall.

Gomer made his way over to the empty seat and set his sack down. He pulled out the chair, ready to sit, when the sight of his friends Lester and Frankie caught his attention. They were already up and alert, dressed in fatigues and eating with the rest of Sergeant Carter's platoon. Gomer smiled and went over to say hello.

"Hey, fellers." He waved, approaching them.

Frankie and Lester looked up and their eyes widened at the sight of Gomer. They jumped out of their seats with alacrity. "Ten _hut!"_

Gomer stood looking at them uncertainly. "Um…fellers? Who you standin' up for? The Colonel around here somewheres?" He scanned the mess hall for Colonel Grey.

The men didn't say anything. Gomer searched for any other nearby officer, but he was the only one around. He didn't even remember that he himself was one until he looked down at his uniform. "Oh." The men were standing at attention for _him! _He turned to his friends uncomfortably. "Fellers…you don't have to do that with me. It's me, Gomer, remember?"

Still nobody made a move.

Gomer sighed in resignation. "As you were," he mumbled, greatly disheartened.

The men relaxed. "Gosh, I thought you were never going to say it, sir." Frankie replied gratefully.

"But Frankie…" Gomer started, his brown eyes sad and confused.

"If you'll be so benevolent as to permit us to revert to the consumption of our nutritious and expedient refection, perhaps we may conclude before Sergeant Carter rouses us for the seven-thirty hike." Hummel added.

Gomer nodded. "Sure, Lester…whatever you said."

"Thank you, sir." His friends sat back down.

Gomer shook his head uncomfortably at the floor. "You don't got to call me 'sir.' Fact is, I don't take to it too kindly. You know that. I'm jus' Gomer."

"Permit me to explain, sir." Lester raised his head from his tray. "Fraternization between officers and the enlisted men is uncommon, if not inconceivable."

"Huh?"

"What he means, sir, is you're top brass now. We're lance corporals. We can't confide in you like we used to. How do we know you won't put us on report or something? You're like, the Colonel and all them now, you know?" Frankie explained.

"But I ain't bein' uppity, you know that!" Gomer cried in despair. "I was jus' tryin' to be friendly, is all."

"Right, sir." Frankie shrugged, still unconvinced.

"If you'll dismiss us, sir, I believe your breakfast grows cold on the far table. As does your welcome." Lester gave him a knowing look.

Sergeant Carter stood up from where he sat at the far end of the platoon's table. "All right, you people! Clear up and get a move on! The hike's leaving in five minutes with or without you! Let's see some action here! Move, move, move!"

Frankie turned to Lester and rolled his eyes. "Great. Now Major Pyle's gonna make us late."

"Sergeant Carter will be altogether less than pleased, I am sure."

Gomer shook his head and sadly made his way back to the empty table. Despondent by the encounter, he slowly sat down to pick at his breakfast.

Little did he know, Duke was having similar troubles in the mess line. He was almost through when Sergeant Hacker, who was dipping out grits onto the plates, looked up in recognition. "Lieutenant Colonel Slater! Sir, what are you doing here, honoring my measly little line with your honorable presence?"

Duke shrugged. "Come on, Hacker. You're backing the line up."

"I haven't seen you around here for a long time! Say, how was Vietnam and Cambodia?"

Duke grimly dished the grits onto his tray himself, realizing that Hacker was more interested in chatting than serving. "You mean Gog and Magog?"

He turned away to sit at the table Gomer had saved, leaving Hacker standing speechless behind him.

"You look blue." Duke sat down next to Gomer and delved into his grits angrily.

The major shrugged. "Goll-ly, Duke…these uniforms ain't all what they're made out to be."

Duke rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it."

-

At precisely eighteen hundred hours, Gomer closed the front door of his house behind him and sighed. It had been a _most _harrowing day! He'd been so worried about how to handle this position that he'd been unable to relax all day. As if that weren't enough, several of the men had gotten together to throw Gomer and Duke a surprise 'wetting down' party. It explained in part Lester and Frankie's coolness to him earlier, but the events had definitely had a taxing effect on the young major.

He looked down to see Vincent attach himself to his leg. "Da-Da!"

"Hey, buddy!" Gomer smiled wearily, picking him up in his arms. "What you been up to all day?"

"Boo-boo." The toddler picked at the band-aid on his arm.

"Uh-oh. You got in trouble again?" Gomer hugged the boy to him and slowly made his way into the living room.

Lou Ann peeked her head out the kitchen door. "That you, Gomer?"

"Yeah." He replied, throwing his hat aside and sitting down in one of he chairs. He gently rocked the boy in his lap, closing his eyes tiredly.

"Gomer, you look exhausted. What happened?" She turned to heat up Vincent's bottle, setting the two meals down on the table.

He shrugged listlessly. "Cain't really tell, exactly. Once a Marine, always a Marine, I guess."

"Well, you an' Vinny cain come on out. Dinner's ready."

And so commenced a quiet, relaxing evening at home. Gomer was more than happy to let Lou Ann tell him about all she'd discovered regarding their new home. After dinner, the two doted on Vincent, helping him play with his toys on the floor. After the boy had tired of it, Gomer flipped on the television, catching the last fifteen minutes of 'Gilligan's Island' and a brand new episode of 'The Brady Bunch.'

Gomer and Lou Ann became so engrossed in the program that the next time they looked down, Vincent was asleep on their laps.

Quietly, Gomer carried the boy upstairs and put him to bed. By the time he entered the master bedroom, Lou Ann appeared to be already asleep in bed. He smiled at her resting peacefully and quietly prepared for sleep himself.

He soon joined her and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the night. Lou Ann stirred beside him, indicating that she was still awake. He looked down and drew her close, cautiously stroking her large stomach with his thumb. Lou Ann sighed happily, nestling her head against his.

He looked up and out their window, smiling at the peaceful night outside. "Lookit there, Lou Ann. Ain't it beautiful? All them stars an' the moon all glowy-like?"

"Yes, Gomer. It gives me chills jus' lookin' at it." Lou Ann shivered, her eyes bright with rapture. "I wonder how it gets to be like that all the time."

"I used to look at it for hours when I was a boy." Gomer murmured. "Me an' Wally, sometimes when we was awake an' we couldn't get to sleep, we'd pour a little puddle of gas on the ground an' look at the moon's reflection in it. Looked even purdier then. It's always jus' been so fascinatin', the way it glows like that."

Lou Ann smiled. "An' jus' think about how old it is. It's been watchin' over all us since the very beginnin'. An' it's always been there. I guess it's jus' one of those few things that don't change."

"You know…there was nights…in Vietnaam…when I couldn't sleep." Gomer slowly murmured, the memories he'd banished returning to the forefront of his mind. "An' I'd jus' look up at that moon, an' think about how it was watchin' over you an' Vincent, an' I felt better. I really did."

Lou Ann turned and smiled up at him, a hand reaching up to stroke his short black hair. Her fingers moved down to his forehead, where they gently traced over the scar remaining there after the stitches had been removed. "How come is it you never really talked about Vietnaam before?"

Gomer shrugged. "Never thought there was much to talk about, really."

"Was it…" She looked down. "Was it like what all them people says it was on television?"

"No." He gazed at her lovingly, holding her tightly in his arms. "Lou Ann, war ain't anythin' that's fit for a lady's ears like yours. I cain't ever tell you what all happened over there. Not you or anybody else. The way I see it, the only people who'll ever know is the ones what were over there with me."  
"Gomer, how come people cain't forget it? How come all those boys are so changed?" She looked up into his wide brown eyes questioningly. "Have you changed?"

"Lou Ann." He smiled. "People is jus' angry, is all. Angry over what happened. A lot of people will never forgive other people that hurt them an' others close to 'em. But I ain't angry."

"Have you forgiven them people?" She asked quietly.

"Of course I have." He closed his eyes and sighed complacently. "I figure, what else cain I do? It's all done an' over with now. Like Gran'ma Pyle said, 'there's nuthin' left for a person to do but forgive an' forget.' So that's what I've done."

"Oh, Gomer!" She laughed, hugging him as tightly as the baby would allow. What he had said had sent her to the highest form of ecstasy she had ever known. And now it was all clear. Gomer Pyle could never be changed. He may have grown, he may have learned, he may have matured. But nothing, not even war, could essentially change him. Lou Ann had never met anyone so amazing in her entire life. It made her feel even more elated to know he was right there beside her, as he would be for the rest of his days.

She sat up, her arms around his neck, smiling delightedly. "Major Gomer Pyle, United States Marine Corps, I…love…you."

She leaned down and gently kissed his face. Gomer sat up in surprise, but after a while he relaxed and kissed her back.

When they broke off, Gomer had a silly grin on his face. "Shazaam!" He cried happily.

Lou Ann just shook her head and giggled. He was every bit the man she had married and then some. Gomer was wholesome, brave, honest, truthful, and innocent to all appearances. But he wasn't ignorant. He knew what all really went on in the world. He only chose to see the goodness in people. And that trait, above all others, was the purest and most definable one about Gomer. That trait alone was what had carried him through the ordeal and had delivered him, unchanged, unto her. Such people were hardly known and difficult to come by. And yet here he was, right there with her.

Thinking back to when they'd watched the sun setting over Wilmington Beach, tears clouded her vision. She was, indeed, very lucky to have him. And despite it all, she would _never _change him, even if she could. They were just two people happy to be together, plain and simple.


	35. Epilogue

**Chapter 35**

_Epilogue_

_"There are no great men. Just great challenges which ordinary men, out of necessity, are forced by circumstances to meet."_

-Admiral William F. Halsey

NOVEMBER 13, 1982

Gomer and Lou Ann stood amid the throng of people in the Constitution Gardens, located in Washington, D.C. Twelve-year-old Vincent, wearing a baseball cap at a crooked angle the way his father always had, along with eleven-year-old Millicent, who'd been graced with Gomer's dark hair and Lou Ann's soft features, stood at their parents' side. A little ways off, their five-year-old twin daughters Norma and Grace played around the base of one of the statues. Duke and Morgan stood next to the Pyles, their ten-year-old son Will and seven-year-old daughter Starr with them. They were standing on the rise of a hill, looking down at the newly dedicated Vietnam Veterans' Memorial. The Wall's shiny black granite shone in the sun, reflecting the images of the veterans visiting it. Listed on its panels were the names of every known man and woman listed as MIA or KIA in the military conflict. Just when everyone had thought they'd been able to put the Vietnam years behind them, they had to go and erect this wall. The two men, dressed in their khaki service uniforms even though they were on vacation, both anticipated and dreaded the walk they'd have to take along its panels.

Duke sighed and turned to his friend. "Well, we've stalled long enough, don't you think?"

Gomer silently nodded. The two Marines slowly began making their way down to the beginning of the wall.

Vincent made a move to follow them, but Lou Ann laid her hands on his shoulders. The boy looked up at her, his wide brown eyes imploring. "But Ma, why cain't I go?"

"This is somethin' your daddy an' Lieutenant Colonel Slater got to do on their own." She told him gently. She knew the men had questioned whether or not to bring their families along, and from the get-go Lou Ann could tell that this would be painful for Gomer. She and Morgan both knew their place through unspoken agreement. They had come this far and would go no further in invading the privacy of their husbands. The time spent at the Wall itself was a journey for Duke and Gomer alone.

As the duo walked down to the Wall's start, they encountered a startlingly familiar figure in their path. The gray, weathered old man stood in a black sport coat, his back hunched against the chilly November wind. His right hand lay resting in his pocket. His recognizable scowl turned upon them as they came into his view.

"Sergeant! Sergeant Brooks!" Duke exclaimed in surprise.

"Hey, Sergeant! How are you?" Gomer extended his hand for a friendly shake, but the man made no move to accept it.

Brooks stood there, eying the two in their uniforms disparagingly. Finally, he spoke. "Whaddaya want?"

"How've you been?" Gomer asked. "Doin' well?"

"Well? _Well?" _Brooks slowly extracted his hand from the pocket and held it before them accusingly. "Does it look like I'm well?"

Gomer and Duke cringed as they took in the gruesome sight. Brooks' battle wound had crippled him for life, forcing him to retire from the Marine Corps. Red scars marked where his hand had been stitched back to his arm. The fingers were curled and disfigured. It was devoid of all movement, rendering the hand utterly useless.

"Gosh, Sarge. I…I'm sorry. I didn't know…" Duke stammered.

Brooks only grunted in reply, shoving his hand angrily back into its pocket.

"Sergeant? You seen the Wall yet?" Gomer pointed to the start of the slowly rising black panels.

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbled, striding away gruffly.

Gomer turned and called to him over his shoulder. "Have a nice day now, Sergeant!" He shrugged and the two started their walk down the Wall.

No recognizable names struck them at the beginning. Their service in the conflict hadn't been until the very end. But even though they didn't know any of the names at the beginning of the Wall, the massive amount of names struck a chord with them potently. They advanced slowly with the respect for men who had went before them.

They were three quarters of the way through when Gomer stopped and ran his hand over a name on one of the panels. "Lookit here, Duke. It's Private Winslow."

"Huh." Duke stood beside him, reading the name. "I remember him. Odd little guy, wasn't he? We hadn't been there too long…must have been '69."

Gomer nodded. "I won't never forget the say he done got blowed up by that mine…"

-

_Gomer slowly crept forward through the jungle, hunched low, his rifle at the ready. He was situated at the rear of the line of troops. Duke, being platoon corporal, was patrolling up front with Sergeant Brooks. He never knew so much went into these patrolling missions. He had only been in Vietnam for a month or so, and was still getting readjusted to the conditions of actual battle._

_He glanced up at the hot, fuzzy sky and wished it were just a little bit more gracious. The trees provided little to no respite; the humidity was far too stifling. He didn't know the sun could be so hot. It wasn't anything like the hot days at Camp Henderson or Mayberry!_

_Suddenly, the men stopped in their tracks. A loud explosion, accompanied by a shrill, terrified scream echoed through the trees ahead. Sergeant Brooks began to yell and several of the men hustled into action._

_"What's goin' on?" Gomer asked, craning his head to see what the fuss was all about. _

_"It's Private Winslow. He stepped on a mine." John Redfoot, who'd been standing in front of him, curtly replied._

_"GET HIM OUTTA HERE! CALL THE BAC SI! MOVE MOVE MOVE!" Brooks cried, pointing back in the direction they'd come._

_Duke and Private Lancaster rushed down the ranks, carrying what was left of Winslow._

_Gomer felt his stomach drop when he saw the private. The explosion had cost him two legs and an arm. His wounds were spilling blood profusely onto the jungle floor. He screamed hysterically as the two carried him away, his eyes rolling wildly. Gomer never forgot the haunted look on the man's face as he passed by. It was the expression of a man who knew he was about to die, and he was utterly terrified of that inevitable prospect._

_"Oh, God, please…please, God, please…please!" Were the only coherent words he was able to cry out._

_Gomer shook his head slowly, watching Duke and Lancaster as they carried the dying man off. "Lord have mercy on his poor soul," he murmured sadly._

_-_

They shivered involuntarily before slowly moving farther down the wall. They were no longer passively scanning the names on the Wall. They looked at the lists intently for the next name. They nodded at their fellow mourners and soldiers, a silent understanding as a result of their shared experiences between them.

Duke was the first to find the name. "Here he is, Gome." He pointed to one close to the base of one of the panels.

"Goll-ly, there's the Fargo Wagon." Gomer smiled wanly. "Duke, he was a real nice feller. Why do you think he went an' killed himself?"

Duke shook his head. He knew why. And that was something he would take to his grave. "He was addicted, Gomer. That's what did him in."

Gomer sighed sadly. "He was a real nice feller, too…"

-

_Private First Class James C. Fargo sat on his helmet in the middle of the encampment, a thin paperback novel laying open on his lap. He studied the words intently, pushing his reading glasses farther up his nose to see more clearly._

_Gomer caught sight of the solitary figure and went over join him. "Hey, Jim. How are you?"_

_"Number one, Gome." He answered, not even bothering to look up from the novel._

_Gomer sat next to him in silence for a few minutes, then turned to him again. "What you readin'?"_

_"Common Sense." He curtly replied._

_Gomer sat dumbfounded for a few moments. "Well, it may be for you, but it ain't too clear to me at all. You got your hand coverin' the title up, anyway."_

_"No, Gomer." Fargo sighed, closing the book and taking off his glasses. "Common Sense is the name of Thomas Paine's famous pamphlet. It describes the atrocities of the King's rule and the need for colonial independence in America. I had to do an in-depth study on it for my degree in American Political Studies at Cambridge."_

_"That's purdy long for a pamphlet." Gomer picked up the book and flipped through it. He opened it at one page and struggled to read a line of the text. "You sure this is English?"_

_"Yes!" Fargo snatched the book back. "Thomas Paine was one of the most influential British philosophers of the 18th century."_

_"I had to read a book once in school." Gomer smiled. "It was one about this girl an' a pig an' a spider. They was real nice brand-new books, too. It was a real nice story."_

_"You read Charlotte's Web?" Fargo laughed. "What grade? Fourth?"_

_Gomer shook his head. "No. Warn't that."_

_"Third? Second? First?"_

_"No…" Gomer frowned in concentration, counting on his fingers. "I guess I had to be about seventeen or eighteen, thereabouts."_

_"High school?" Fargo's eyes widened in surprise. "You read Charlotte's Web as a senior in high school?"_

_"Yep." Gomer grinned. "Took us all year to read it, too."_

_Fargo laughed and shook his head. "Wow. And here you are a rank ahead of me."_

_Gomer shrugged. "I still thought it was a nice book."_

_"You sure are somethin', Gome."_

_Gomer smiled. "You're purdy smart too, Jim."_

_-_

Gomer shook his head and smiled. "It's a shame it had to end up for you that way, Jim." He turned to Duke. "Maybe, if we'd found out sooner, he would still be here. Do you think?"

Duke closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, Gome. Come on."

They moved over to the next panel and scanned the names along it. Duke reached up and brushed his fingers over one of the engravings. "There. There he is."

"Will? He was a right nice kid, too. Came from a small town like I did." Gomer nodded, remembering the young country boy. "He was real little to be over there."

"Yeah. I was with him when he died, you know." Duke shook his head, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "He was a great kid…"

-

_"You know what animals I always like best?" Will turned to Duke as the two sat down with their dinners one evening. The meager c-rations were for the most part tasteless. It was the company at dinnertime that made the break worthwhile. The boy looked over at the older corporal and smiled. _

_"No. What's that?" Duke turned to the young man companionably. Gomer had been assigned a utilities detail for tripping over the sergeant's foot earlier. Duke was on his own for dinner tonight. But Will was there. He'd always taken a liking to the boy. In a way, he reminded Duke of Gomer._

_"Cattle. There's just something about cattle I really like." Will pushed around the rations on his plate. "Back home, when I used to do the milking, it was always my favorite time of the day. They're really friendly, in their own sense. The spring cattle drive was always the best time of the year, too. Riding alongside those cows all day." He shook his head and smiled. "It just don't get better than that."_

_Duke grinned and nodded. The kid was as enthusiastic about cows as Fargo was about his books. It was no wonder the two guys, coming from completely different walks of life, butted heads so regularly. But the boy was honest and diligent. He was all Montana rancher in the making. "Do any rodeo?"_

_"The roping events. That's the best part." Will smiled "Fact, that's how I met Fanny Maywater. She beat me in the Clark county rodeo these last two years now. Now Fanny, she can hog-tie a calf." His eyes shone admiringly for the high school sweetheart he'd left behind. _

_"How do the Marines compare to cattle?" Duke asked. _

_Will laughed. "The Marines is another thing entire, you know? I remember when I told Dad I got drafted. Thought he'd raise heck cause it meant dropping school. But he was real cool about it. Said it'd help me grow up."_

_Duke raised his eyebrows. As far as he could tell, Will was still a boy, a wide-eyed eagle scout stepping into the big leagues who still hadn't figured out what it was all about. "Good advice. Any regrets?"_

_Will shrugged. "Nope. I guess I'm still too young to have any of them hangin' over my head. I was kind of plannin' on dropping school anyway. It was taking too much time away from my cattle."_

_Duke laughed. "True enough."_

_"The Marines is different from cows, though. With cows, you just feel like they're there with you." Will murmured. "But with the Marines, you _know. _Make any sense to you?"_

_"Perfect sense." Duke smiled and patted the boy's back. Call it security, call it loyalty, call it camaraderie. A Marine _always _had his brothers' backs._

_-_

"I named my son after him." Duke wiped away his tears and shook his head. "He was too young to go. But he went. He went for his buddies. Most patriotic kid I ever met." His hand hovered over the name a final moment. "Nice knowing you, buddy."

The two officers turned to the next panel in search of the rest. Sure enough, carved right next to each other, were the names of the rest of the ill-fated first patrol.

'DANIEL W. LANCASTER'…

-

_"Hey, wait up!" Private Lancaster ran across camp and jumped on top of Duke, giving him a noogie. _

_Duke laughed and threw the man over his shoulder. "Not so fast, Danny!"_

_Lancaster jumped to his feet and butted Duke in the chest with his head playfully. "Come on, say uncle!"_

_"Not this time!" Duke abruptly sat down and kicked Lancaster's feet out from under him. The private landed right on top of him, effectively pinning him to the ground._

_"Got ya this time! Come on, say it!" He exclaimed gleefully._

_"You're forgetting my secret weapon, Danny." Duke smiled and craned his neck as far as it could go. "Hey, Gomer! Help me out here!"_

_"Oh, no! Not your secret weapon!"_

_Duke only caught sight of Lancaster's horror-stricken face for a moment before he was blown aside by Gomer coming to his friend's aid. Lancaster tried to run off, but the duo was too fast for him. They tackled him and pinned him down so that he couldn't even move._

_"Okay…okay…" Lancaster panted. "Uncle!"_

_Duke and Gomer backed off. "That's why you don't mess with the Henderson boys!" Duke crowed triumphantly._

_"No fair! You two ganged up on me!" Lancaster cried._

_"Oh, come on, Danny! Don't claim foul!"_

_"Sure, Danny. Why don't you jus' get yourself a teammate? Then we'd be even." Gomer added._

_"It's not fair! It doesn't count!" Lancaster countered, laughing._

_"Then why don't we just retry and get Shrenk over here to ref it this time? Then we'll see who's playing fair!"_

_"I'll do that!" Lancaster cried, running off in the direction of the tents. Duke laughed at the man's retreating back while Gomer could only smile._

_-_

Their eyes moved to the name next to it. 'JESS H. COCKLIN'…

-

_"Hey, Trojan!" Duke called when he caught Cocklin hunched down over by one of the shrubs. "What are you doing?"_

_"Growing my own effing garden of my own effing food so I don't got to eat that effing shit they feed us," Cocklin grumbled in reply._

_"Well, I know it rains a lot here, but it doesn't rain every day. What are you going to do to keep your crops alive during the dry spells?" Duke asked._

_Cocklin grinned and held up one of his beer cans. "I was just watering them right now."_

_"Hey, fellers. What you doin'?" Gomer sat down next to them and picked up the roots lying at Cocklin's feet. "Been out scavagin' again?"_

_"Um, not exactly, Gomer…" Cocklin began._

_Gomer nodded, listening as he took a bite of the root._

_"Gomer, you don't want to eat that!" Duke cried._

_"Well, why not?" Gomer asked nonchalantly, then suddenly screwed his face up. He turned and quickly spat it out in the shrub. "I ain't tasted that since Cambodier!"_

_Cocklin sheepishly held up his can. "Sorry, Gome. I know how touchy you get about alcohol."_

_Duke stifled a laugh as Gomer just shook his head._

_-_

Finally, Gomer and Duke looked at the last name on the row. 'THOMAS A. REEVES'…

-

_"And so this guy comes up to me and says, 'Sorry, dude. But that's _my _hot dog!'" Reeves concluded._

_Gomer and Duke laughed. The trio was trapped in the private's tent, finding momentary respite from the torrential downpour occurring right outside. They all knew that at any moment Brooks would rouse them and pull them from the shelter of their tents. Their sergeant loved making them run in the heavy rain._

_"Come on, Tom. Your draw." Duke gestured to the deck, holding his own hand secretively._

_"I don't have to. I got gin." Reeves laughed, setting the cards down for Duke to see. _

_The corporal only glanced at them before throwing his hand in. "Well, there goes my spare canteen."_

_"And I'll be needing it for that first patrol mission tomorrow, too!" Reeves added happily. _

_"Cain I play?" Gomer asked, picking up a handful of cards. He looked at them for a moment before his eyes widened in surprise. "There's pitchers of girls on these cards!"_

_Reeves shrugged. "Sure. What else?"_

_Gomer quickly dropped them as if they were on fire. "Shame, shame, shame!" He shook his head reprovingly._

_"Hey, if I'm gonna strain my eyes over a bunch of cards for a few hours, I might as well look at something nice." Reeves grinned and held up the ace of spades. "Aren't these some lookers, though?"_

_"Hey, lay off. Gomer doesn't buy into that." Duke intervened sternly. "Some of us already got lookers back home."_

_Gomer looked bleakly out at the pelting rain. "You know what? I write Lou Ann about how it rains for days here, an' she cain't hardly believe it. Why do you think it jus' goes on an' on like that here?" He hugged his knees in an effort to protect himself against the prevailing damp._

_Duke shrugged. "I don't know. Climate, I guess."_

_"No, no." Reeves shook his head. "I know why it rains like that all the time."_

_"Why's that?" Gomer asked._

_"It's urban legend, what I've been told." Reeves shrugged. "Well…they say it's all the people who's been killed in this goddamned war, crying down on us."_

_Duke nodded his head. "Sounds all right to me."_

_Reeves looked out through the tent flap at the falling rain. "You think the Fargo Wagon's out there crying over us?"_

_The three sat in silence, shivering, until Brooks called them out for the run._

_-_

Gomer and Duke bowed their heads for a moment before straightening and moving a little further down the wall. Neither said a word. They both knew whose name would appear next. Wordlessly, they both scanned for it.

As he searched, Gomer couldn't help but appreciate how shiny and clear the black marble was. He could see himself when he scanned the names. He turned and looked ahead. Where the wall ended, he could see the Lincoln Memorial standing what seemed to be squarely at the end of the path. The sun cast the memorial's sidelong reflection in the marble as well. In fact, Lincoln's statue almost seemed to be pointing right at…

"Will you look at that," Gomer murmured, pointing to the top of the panel. "There he is."

Duke followed his gaze and swallowed, nodding. "Yup. There he is."

'JOHNATHAN P. SHRENK.'

A diamond engraved into the stone preceded his name, denoting that he was confirmed dead.

A chilly November breeze riffled by the two men, but they hardly felt it. They were both thinking back on the friendly lieutenant who had done everything he possibly could for his men…

-

_"…And you be careful about how you carry those hand grenades, okay Walker?" Lieutenant Shrenk clapped the private heartily on the back._

_"Okay. Thanks, Shrenk." Private Walker Hughes took the proffered ammo and moved away in the direction of his tent._

_Shrenk stood in his authoritive, nonchalant stance and scanned the encampment as he lit a cigarette. He took a long draw, watching the smoke he exhaled disappear into the sky above. This was the only moment he found that offered respite from his harrowing job. Turning back to the men, he caught sight of Gomer and Duke. He smiled and strolled over their way. "Hey, if it isn't my boys! How's it goin'?"_

_"Number ten, Shrenk." Gomer answered, groping around on the ground beside Duke. "I done took off my weddin' ring so I could clean the inside of my rifle an' I lost it."_

_"Of course he would just _have _to lose it," Duke grumbled. "And I'm stuck helping him look for it."_

_Shrenk glanced at something in his palm "It wouldn't happen to be gold, plain on the outside, with 'June 17, 1969' inscribed on the inside?"_

_Gomer jumped up. "That's it! Thank you, Shrenk! Where was it?"_

_Shrenk tossed him the ring and gave him a cockeyed grin. "Under your helmet."_

_"Oh, now I remember! That's where I put it so's I wouldn't lose it to begin with!" Gomer smiled, slipping the band back on its rightful finger._

_Duke rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother."_

_"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Gomer cried. "I never would've found it without you, Shrenk."_

_"Sure you would. Next time you picked up your helmet." Shrenk laughed, putting out his cigarette with his foot. "Now that the crisis is solved, I wanted to give you guys the heads up. Couple of Charlie spies opened fire on the other part of this camp last night. Bad stuff. Had some of our guys killed. Since we know they're in the area, we're on the alert. So unless you're armed, keep away from the edge of camp, okay?"_

_Duke nodded. "Got it, Shrenk."_

_"Yeah, well, I gotta go police the camp, spread the word around the rest of the men." Shrenk began moving off._

_"Have fun," Gomer said in parting._

_The lieutenant grunted in reply. "You think it's fun playing nursemaid to a bunch of sorry sods who don't know right from left? You should try it sometime and see what it does to you!"_

_Gomer, taken aback at the reply, looked stunned. "Goll-ly, I sure am sorry, Shrenk. I didn't mean it that way." He turned his gaze down at the ground._

_The lieutenant turned back to them, the grim smile back in place. "Hey, it's on the number one, you hear? Look, I shouldn't be the one getting short with my men. Got this temper, you know?" He laughed, shaking his head as he gave them both sharp blows to the back. "CYA and get outta here, all right?"_

_-_

Gomer studied the name. It seemed ironic that Shrenk's name ended up right at the top of the panel, centered in the row of names. He slowly smiled. "He'd be tickled to death to see his name right there like that."

"You think?" Duke murmured beside him.

"Uh-huh." Gomer nodded emphatically. "You know what else, Duke? I think he wanted it to be this way."

Duke thought back on all the lieutenant had said and caught Gomer's meaning. "Yeah…Yeah, Gome. I think you're right."

They finished silently paying the man their last respects and slowly walked toward the end of the Wall. They slung their arms over each other's shoulders and laughed companionably as the granite beside them slowly receded back into the ground. It was as though the two had just relived a terrifying nightmare and reveled in the fact that it was finally behind them. They only paused once more to read the inscription on the final panel.

'OUR NATION HONORS THE COURAGE, SACRIFICE, AND DEVOTION TO DUTY AND COUNTRY OF ITS VIETNAM VETERANS. THIS MEMORIAL WAS BUILT WITH PRIVATE CONTRIBUTIONS FROM THE AMERICAN PEOPLE. NOVEMBER 11, 1982.'

"Isn't it ironic?" Duke breathed. "It wasn't all that long ago that everyone wanted to forget. Now they want us to remember."

"But…Duke? That inscription ain't right. It's got it all wrong." Gomer frowned as he finished reading the words. "It warn't duty or country an' all that." He inclined his head back in the direction of the Wall. "It was them fellers back there."

"Yeah." Duke smiled. "But that's something the world may never know."

America could pick and choose what she wanted to remember. She could choose her heroes with abandon, bestowing the title on anyone who came along on whom her people could feel a tidal wave of false hope and security. Little did she know, there were no such heroes as she described. The names on the wall were no faceless heroes. They may have been Marines, they may have been soldiers. But in the end, all of them were simply just men.

Gomer and Duke's silhouettes cast long shadows across the Wall as they slowly re-climbed the hill to join their families.

-

APRIL 5th, 1988

"My name is Carter. Gunnery Sergeant Vincent Carter. Remember that name, because it'll be the only name important to you from now on." Carter eyed the young boots lined up before him warily. Climbing in years but not in vivacity, Carter had requested a DI position and had been granted it. Now, entering the twilight of his career, he was determined to take one last platoon from the very beginning to the top. And he vowed that this one would be his best yet.

He was as short and scrappy as he ever was. His hair had almost completely grayed and his face was lined with age. But he still carried himself as proud and upright as he had when he was younger. He almost lost his Smokey the Bear hat as he whirled around in a neat and precise facing. What were people talking about? He hadn't lost his old touch! He could still train a Marine as good or better as any of them! Even Sergeant Boyle! Hadn't Pyle been proof of that?

He set his hat further down on his face, frowning stonily at the recruits as he marched up and down before them. "I am your senior drill instructor. Your momma and your poppa. I will be watching over you every single minute!"

"Poppa? He's so ancient, he could be our _grandfather!" _One of the men snickered.

"Shh! That ain't nice at all!" The young man standing next to him whispered in reply.

"You men are going to try to become Marines," Carter continued. "You will be following in the footsteps of men who have served from the halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli."

Out of the corner of Carter's eye, he caught one of the men whispering to another. He marched right up to the perpetrator and came face to face with a tall, dark-haired recruit with a dopey, hangdog expression on his face. "What did you say, private?"

"I was jus' sayin' how that's from the Marine Hymn an' I know all the words to it. I really do."

"Huh?" A strange feeling of deja-vu befell the sergeant.

"Uh-huh. You know why? One time when I was a boy, my daddy, he left one of his trainin' manuals out with the words printed on the back of it, that's how come I learned it."

"State your name, Private." Carter barked.

The young man simply grinned. "You know my name, Sergeant. It's Vincent, same as yourn."

"Private, in the Marines you are known by your surname and surname only! Is that clear?"

"Clear as the spots on a bobcat. You know what, Sergeant? I cain see your nose hairs when you look up at me like that."

Carter frowned and shook his head. "Just state your name!"

"Pyle, sir!" The boy drew himself up as he said it.

"Pyle, you will not speak unless spoken to from now on!"

"Yes, sir. An' I sure am sorry, sir. I guess it's cause it's my first day an' I'm real excited an' all. You know how long I waited to join the Marines? My whole life, is what."

"Two weeks' KP for talking!" Carter growled before stepping away. Inside, he was moaning. _Oh, boy. Here we go again! _He had known this was coming. Major Pyle had even called him last night to tell him that his son had his enlistment papers in order and was ready to report the next morning. But it still was a lot harder than he'd anticipated.

_If he thinks he's going to get special treatment because he's my godson, he's got another thing coming! _Carter thought smugly before resuming his 'welcome aboard' speech. "All of your standard issue items will be kept in this bucket." He picked up one of the metal buckets for the men to see. "Your toothbrush, your comb, your razor. You will be assigned one bunk, one locker, one rifle and one footlocker…" He whirled around as he caught Vincent waving his hand in the air. "What is it now, Pyle?"

Vincent smiled and lowered his hand. "Scuse me, Sergeant. But I was wonderin'. Cain we request whether or not we get a top bunk or a bottom bunk? Cause I'd really like to have a bottom one. You see, I found out when I was five that I kinder get nosebleeds at high altitudes. So I really would just like it if I didn't take that chance. Now, I don't want to be forward or nuthin', but do you think that would be all right if I slept on the bottom anyway? I'm sure the other fellers won't mind."

Carter frowned in disgust. "What do you think this is, the girl scouts? LIKE I SAID, YOUR BUNK WILL BE ASSIGNED!"

He turned back to the rest of the men. "The purpose of the platoon is for every man to work together and pull his own weight in order to accomplish a task. You will be training over obstacle courses, hiking with full combat gear, and completing basic training lessons. You will be held responsible not only for keeping your own belongings squared away, you will also have to work together to keep the barracks and surrounding area immaculate. I may even assign extra details as I see fit." He turned around to start up the line from the other direction. His shoulders slumped as he caught sight of Vincent waving his hand again. "No, Pyle, you don't get to pick the details!"

"It warn't that." Vincent lowered his hand. "I was jus' wonderin'. What kinder basic lessons are we gonna be learnin'? Do they got anythin' to do with figures? Cause I ain't very good with figures. I never was. They jus' get me so confused an' turned around what with all them columns an' such? Never understood that." He shook his head. "But if they's readin' lessons, well, readin' I cain do, so long as I take it slow. But writin', now that's somethin' I cain do. You should see my printin'. Ma jus' praises it to high heaven! She's got a lot of my printin' on the refrigerator back home. Have you seen it yet, Sergeant? It's jus' the purdiest…"

Carter roughly clapped a hand over the boy's mouth. "There are no figures, no books, and no printing! And I hate to burst your bubble, but with all the other things we needed to fit in, there was no time left over for recess!" He withdrew his hand, frowning in frustration at the recruit.

"Really? That's a shame. Recess always was my best subject."

Carter stifled a groan, trying desperately to continue his speech. "In the Marine Corps, there is no room for tardiness and orders are to be followed once given. That means you _will _get up at reveille and be ready for morning roll call! You _will _present yourselves to all superior officers with the utmost respect! When I say jump, you _will _jump! When I say run, you _will _run! You will do _everything _I say without question."

He whirled around, only to find the troublesome recruit waving his arm around again. Must the kid have a rebuttal for everything? "PYLE!" He strode up to the boy and got in his face once again. "Make your explanation quick this time, and for your sake it better be good!"

"It sure is." Vincent grinned and put his hand down. "It was what you said about treatin' all your superior officers with respect. Since I'm in the Marines now, that makes my daddy a superior officer, don't it? Now, when I was growin' up, we'd always use to play on the floor an' bump into the furniture an' Ma would get real mad. We still do that sometimes. I was jus' wonderin' if I cain't do that anymore, cause it may be bein' disrespectful in some way."

Carter studied the boy, feeling as though he were about to be sick. "Pyle…"

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"You hate me, don't you?"

Vincent smiled at him. "Oh, no, Sergeant. I like you. I like you a lot. After all we been through together, how cain't I? All them years of babysittin', rockin', diaper changin'…"

Carter heated up instantly. "PYLE! THAT'S ENOUGH! I DO _NOT _WANT TO SEE THAT HAND UP OR HEAR ANY MORE OF YOUR STUPID QUESTIONS AGAIN! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Vincent looked at the ground like a scolded puppy. "Yes, Sergeant."

Carter breezed past the men, anxious to make up for lost time. "You are not in the Army and you're not in the Navy! You are amphibious troops! You will be training on both the land and the sea! You will use our terminology and partake in all of our customs! So when I say hit the deck, you _will _hit the deck! When I say you always wear your covers outside, you _will _wear your covers outside! When I say…"

This time when he turned around, he caught Vincent whispering to the man standing next to him.

"…An' I ain't never been on a real boat before, 'cept this one time my Uncle Goober took me out on his fishin' boat when I was seven. That was a lot of fun. An' I caught three big fish, too! But I ain't never been on one of them great big boats, even though I seen a lot of 'em before. You think them big boats rock around as much as Uncle Goober's boat? Cause if they do, then I may have some problems with gettin' a little green under the collar? You see, that kinder happens when I get rocked around for long periods of time…"

Carter's face slowly turned purple. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his head shook with fury. Everything in his visage turned red. His fists clenched and unclenched themselves at his sides. Finally, when he could hold it in no longer, he let it blow.

"PYYYYYYYYYLLLLLLE!"

-

Later that evening, Carter entered the office and strode up to the desk. He stopped and saluted smartly. "Sergeant Carter reporting as ordered, sir!"

Major Gomer Pyle grinned and saluted him back. "Goll-ly, Sergeant. This sure does feel funny, don't it?"

He got no reply. Carter still stood at attention.

"Oh. You cain relax now, Sergeant." Gomer murmured, sitting down on the edge of his desk. The years had done little to change his appearance. His wide brown eyes and infectious smile still held the same vivacity of his son's. He still stood as straight and tall as he had twenty years ago, looking every bit the six foot he was. His face had weathered slightly with age and his jet-black hair was touched with gray at the temples, giving him a distinguished look that came with graceful aging.

Carter's shoulders slumped and he smiled at the major. "Thanks, Pyle. Well, how are Lou Ann and the girls?"

Gomer laughed and smiled. "Purdy as ever an' gettin' purdier by the day. An' Miss Bunny, she doin' all right?"

"Fine, fine. She says thank you for inviting her over to dinner the other night." Carter replied. "I have to say, though, I was surprised when you called me down here. Working late again?"

"Kind of." Gomer reached down and moved some papers aside. "What I really wanted to know is how Vincent's workin' out."

Carter sighed. He might as well tell it to Pyle straight. "I don't mean any disrespect, sir, but your son is one of the _stupidest _recruits to ever come under my command! He's ignorant, he's goofy, he doesn't know when to shut his mouth, gets stuck on the smallest of things, frets over nothing, never stops smiling, the slowest mover in the platoon, can't get into step for the life of him, leaves his gear all over the place, _and _gets himself into the worst trouble imaginable!"

Carter paced angrily, shaking his head. "In other words, he's exactly like _you _when you joined up!"

Major Gomer Pyle smiled reflectively. "Well, I guess that means he's gonna turn out all right, won't he, Sergeant?"

The grizzled sergeant stopped his pacing and looked for a long time at the man sitting on his desk before him. He'd come a long way from the very first day they'd known each other. And the longer he thought about it, the more Carter realized he wouldn't have traded being a part of it for the world. He put a hand on Pyle's shoulder, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "Yeah. Yeah, he certainly will."


End file.
